


Little Wing

by dyspneagrime



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1970s, Alternate Universe - Small Town, Angst, Bad Parenting, Dove is a mess, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, I guess I don't know what fan fiction means, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mutual Pining, Oops, Period-Typical Sexism, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Steve Rogers, Slow Burn, So many OCs, Summer Romance, They smoke so much weed in this lol, This is getting smuttier than I expected, Underage Drinking, Underage Drug Use, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, but it's the seventies so
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-14 14:28:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 71,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28922088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dyspneagrime/pseuds/dyspneagrime
Summary: The year is 1973. All Dove Rogers wanted was a fun summer. Just one last hoorah before being thrust into adult life.Yet everything shifts when her new houseguest— and long-standing enemy— Bucky Barnes, arrives. In the thick of sun-kissed relaxation, the two of them are forced to face the awakening and burning desire growing between them.I'll be updating tags as I go
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Female Character(s), James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 100
Kudos: 98





	1. Arrivals and Forbearance

**Author's Note:**

> We're back babes!!!
> 
> Wow I've missed all of you so much♥️ Thank you for being so patient with me and letting me take almost a month off before posting again. It was much needed after the beast of work that Possessed was.
> 
> I've been super nervous to start posting because of how much work has gone into this story. It's set in 1973 and has taken me hours and hours of research to really grasp the culture of the 70s. Everything from how the war was perceived, to all the things that were still being invented, to the culture between teens and parents after the hippie movement started the decade before. It's been a lot of reading articles and watching documentaries, so please be kind if I don't get it all right!
> 
> Dove Rogers is our protagonist. Yes, Steve's sister. She's headstrong, adventurous, and sort of a fucking mess.
> 
> In this story, the Bucky we'll be dealing with is pre-WS. So think of that charming, witty, ladies man from the 40s while you read. He isn't damaged (at least not yet) *wink wink*
> 
> Everyone in this story is 18 when it starts. There will never be underage sex going on, I promise. Underage drinking and drug use? Yeah...oops. But it's the seventies so shoot me.
> 
> On another note- if any of you like to listen to music while you read like I do, I highly recommend listening to some classic rock(preferably from the seventies) and just about anything by Lana del Rey because she very much fits the mood of this story.
> 
> And yes, this story was fully influenced by Little Wing by Jimi Hendrix. I was listening to it when I got the idea and I knew I had to find a way to incorporate that name. Listen to the Live 10/12/68 Winterland version and it'll change your life.
> 
> Okay rambling is done.
> 
> Love you all,
> 
> Dyspy  
> xoxo
> 
> PS: Roseworth is a made up town, but it is set in Oregon.

June 1973

Roseworth, Oregon

Dove sat staring at the clock. Big eyes straining to stay open. Tears pooling on her water line from how long she hadn’t blinked.

Waiting for that goddamn minute hand to strike twelve. Only fifteen more seconds and her days could be spent how she wanted— free of this hellhole of a high school until the day she died.

She bounced her knee, chewing on the end of her pencil. Her entire body filled with anticipation. Practically having to force her breath with how tight her chest felt. Desperate to hear the shrill ring that would set her free from the oppressive walls of Roseworth High.

The room was stuffy, smelling like paper and rubber erasers. Sunlight beamed in from the huge wall of windows, heat seeping through the glass making it feel that much more stuffy. It was silent apart from the soft scraping of pencils, the occasional sound of a page flipping, or a cough.

A handful of straggler students were scrawling out last minute answers on their finals, rushing to finish before class was over. Dove had been finished for twenty minutes then. Although, she wished she had taken her time. It would’ve been nice to have something to occupy her mind rather than playing the staring game with the clock.

As the minute hand, ticked into place, she immediately shot up from her desk. Elation bloomed in her chest at the sound of the bell releasing her from her binds. She hadn’t even realized until then that she had been holding her breath. She swung her backpack over her arm. Nearly slamming through the slow moving crowds of classmates she never wanted to see again.

When she made it out into the hall, it was filled with students cheering and chucking papers into the air. She rolled her eyes, shoving past anyone that got in her way. Sending half-hearted smiles to the many people that were chucking peace signs to her or hollering her name in farewell.

Dove saw Wanda standing in front of her locker, shoving her backpack full of loose items leftover from the year. She skipped over, resting her hand on the wall beside her, smiling down at the red head. “What’s up, buttercup?”

After slamming her locker shut, Wanda tugged the zipper of her bag closed and pulled it over her shoulders. “Hey, how was your last final?”

“Fine, I guess.” Dove shrugged. “I’m just so glad I never have to see that fascist Mr. Osborn again.”

“Or learn about non-relativistic quantum mechanics,” Wanda added, turning to walk backwards while they made their way down the hall.

Dove let out a laugh, combing her fingers through her unbrushed mane of platinum hair. “But it’s _so_ _useful_ , Wands. We use that kind of information every day,” she said sarcastically, faking a pout.

“Right. How could I forget? It’s our favorite pastime,” Wanda replied, playing along, making Dove laugh.

The two of them had been best friends since the sixth grade. Wanda was one of the very few people in town that hadn’t been born there. That was what initially drew Dove to her, she always thought. Wanda was different. Having grown up in Los Angeles and raised by free-spirited parents, she actually had interesting things to say.

She had insanely long, red hair and always wore some kind of floral print or fringe. The pinnacle of the hippie stereotype— although she hated being described as one. She had a progressive mindset and even sold pot to make some cash on the side of a few random jobs she held throughout high school. Like a breath of fucking fresh air to Dove.

Their conversation was cut short by the sound of a roaring chant slowly starting to build from down the hall. Students swarmed together as the shouting grew louder and louder. Growing into a booming crescendo of voices. As Dove stood on the tips of her toes, she could barely make out someone about to get pummeled by a few meatheads and instantly knew who it was.

“ _Goddamnit_ ,” she muttered to herself, pushing through the crowd to the center of the cul-de-sac of teens, to find none other than her close friend Peter being held up by two hulking football players, while the moronic brute of a quarterback, Brad, swung his fist square to Peter’s gut.

Peter was sorta small for their age. His slim frame was always easy prey for the local assholes, so Dove was hardly surprised to find him still being picked on— even on the last day of their senior year.

The sight of him hunching over in pain made Dove lurch forward, pushing between them to stop him from striking again. “ _Fuck_ _off_ , Brad,” she spat, putting herself between him and Peter.

Brad scoffed and backed up, shooting an irritated, “looks like Parker’s mom is here,” to the crowd, making everyone laugh. Rolling his eyes as he nodded for his friends to follow him down the hall.

“That’s right. Call your fucking dogs,” Dove shouted over her shoulder as she turned to check on her injured friend. “You okay, Peter?” she asked worriedly, eyes scanning over him.

He nodded, huffing a breath as he clutched his core. “I’ll be— I’ll be fine,” he huffed.

“What did you say that got Brad so worked up?” Wanda asked, looking between Peter and the end of the hallway where the group of guys were still celebrating against their lockers. Probably trying to find their next victim, she figured.

“I didn’t even say anything. I was just walking and then him and his friends jumped on me,” Peter explained, releasing his side and rolling his shoulders with a grunt, brushing the few stray hairs that fell over his forehead back into place.

Dove sighed, frowning sympathetically. She had been friends with Peter since elementary school and was always there to stand up for him. Although he was a bit of a nerd and she surpassed him in social standing when they got into high school, she never stopped hanging out with him or treated him any different. The thought never even crossed her mind. “Those assholes are always looking for a fight, huh?”

“Unfortunately.”

“You gonna be okay getting home? We can walk with you if you want,” Dove offered.

“No it’s cool. I drove today and I’m giving Mj a ride home,” Peter said, jingling the keys from his pocket in his hand. The two of them had been dating for the last couple years— which anyone with _eyes_ saw coming. They were next-door neighbors and hung out everyday, so it was really only a matter of time until they fell in love.

Wanda narrowed her eyes, looking up and down the hallway. “Where _is_ that girl?”

“She had to go beg Mrs. Carter for a better grade on her final project. Apparently she’s right on the cusp of getting an A, so she really wanted to grub for it,” he explained, “she should be out here soon, so I’ll be fine.”

“Alrighty then. See ya later.”

“Oh, hey wait.” He held up a hand, halting Dove and Wanda where they stood. He slipped his backpack off his shoulders and dug through his papers until he pulled out his yearbook. “Will you sign my yearbook, Dove? Wanda already signed it earlier, but I still need yours.”

Dove sighed, ripping it from his grasp. “You really think I care about this sentimental shit, Peter? I don’t know why everyones buggin’ so hard about never seeing each other again. You’re one of my best friends, it’s not like we’ll just stop talking.” She flipped it open, scanning for an open spot in the sea of colorful scribbled ink.

“I mean, I usually wouldn’t ask you, but you’re gonna be famous someday, Dove. A big hotshot writer.” He shrugged, still holding his ground about getting her to sign it.

Dove snickered, biting the tip off her marker and swirling her name in the purple ink over the center of the page. “Whatever you say, man.” Shoving it back into Peter’s hands, she wrapped an arm around Wanda, walking her back down the hall.

“River this weekend, remember?” Wanda called over her shoulder, being met with a thumbs up from Peter.

When they got out to the front of the school, the yard was covered in more students signing yearbooks and hugging emotionally. Acting like they’d never see each other again, when Dove knew all too well that most of them would end up settling down in the same city where they were born.

Roseworth was just that kind of place. She had gone to school with the same one hundred kids since kindergarten. The town was small, only getting the occasional outsider from the train station on 5th street. Everyone knew everyone else’s business— since gossip was the only true form of currency around there. If you were to share a secret, it’d be coming right back to you the next day.

Anyone that was raised there, was doomed to live the same fate as their parents. Marrying their high school sweetheart, working some mundane job, coming home to their two kids and dog. Living that ideal, yet boring life until the day they died in the town that seemed to move in slow motion.

All of this directly opposing Dove’s desires. She and Wanda had both dreamed of moving away together since they first met. New York being the ultimate goal for them, but they’d honestly take whatever location presented itself, as long as it meant they could leave home.

This plain difference in views being made even more apparent as they walked to their bikes and were approached by a few of their classmates, reluctantly signing a their yearbooks as they blubbered about memories. It was like talking to a wall, with the way both Dove and Wanda were blankly nodding to the outpour of emotion by the other students.

“You didn’t get a yearbook either?”

Wanda shook her head. “No. It’s not like I need yet another reminder of how shitty high school was.”

“Exactly,” Dove agreed as they unlocked their bikes. They both swung their legs over their own, speeding off down the street together, not sparing another glance to the brick building disappearing behind them.

Dove leaned her head back, raising her arms above her head, letting out a loud cheer while she peddled her bike. Loving how the hot, sticky air felt on her skin. The sun was burning with the promise of summer. The ambiance felt light. Stress free.

Endless possibilities awaiting the next three months, even when deep down she knew she’d spend her days in her usual lackadaisical torpor that always found her when school was out.

“So, when do you leave for Europe again?”

“In two weeks,” Wanda replied sadly.

“Dude, don’t even try to pretend you’re upset about going,” Dove griped, reaching over and punching her in the arm. Steering her bike with the other and swerving a bit in the process.

“I’m going with my _family_ though. Not like I’ll have any real fun with them around,” she groaned as they turned left onto the road that led into their shared neighborhood. “And I know my mom will make me and Pietro bunk together whenever she can.”

“At least you’ll get a change of scenery. I don’t know what I’m going to do without you.”

“I’ll only be gone for a month. And you’ll have Mj and Peter. I know you feel like a third wheel with them, but you still always have fun together,” Wanda encouraged, slightly out of breath form peddling. “Are you working at the movie theater this summer?”

“Probably not. I have a lot of money saved up from last summer and I wanted to focus on my writing.”

“Hey, _there_ you go.” Wanda smiled. “You can write about all the places you wish you were instead of Roseworth.”

Dove shot her a glare. “You suck.”

They rode onto the sidewalk when they got to Wanda’s house. Stepping off their bikes and rolling them, before dropping them onto the front lawn. When they stepped into the Maximoff house, Pietro was lounging on the couch sucking on a popsicle and watching tv.

“Hey, losers,” he called over, tucking his arm behind his head of grown-out, blonde hair.

Wanda gave him a jeering glare, grabbing her friend by the wrist and walking her into the kitchen.

Dove hopped up onto the counter, while Wanda poured each of them a glass of iced tea. “How did he get home so fast?”

“Car. Remember?” Wanda grumbled, sliding a glass across the colorful tiles.

“Right.” Dove huffed, taking a huge chug from the glass. “God, fuck _him.”_

“I heard that, Dove!” Pietro called from the other room.

“I’m glad, dickhead!” she yelled right back.

Wanda snickered, taking a sip of her ice cold tea. “He got a car, I got a bike.” She shrugged. “I guess there _are_ perks to being twelve minutes older.”

Dove let out an irritated hum into her glass, drinking the rest down before pouring herself another.

The phone resting on the wall on the opposite end of the kitchen started ringing loudly. The shrill sound of the call cutting their momentary relaxation short. Wanda set down her drink and hustled over to pick it up.

“Hello?” She paused listening to the other line, turning to peek over at Dove. “Yeah, she’s here. I’ll let her know.” Pausing again. “Okay, bye Mrs. Rogers.” She slammed down the phone.

“The queen has summoned me huh?” Dove questioned cooly, staring straight ahead. Unsurprised by her mother instantly tracking her down, since the Maximoff residence was practically her second home.

“Yeah, she said she needs you home to help with something,” Wanda recalled, walking back over from the phone.

Dove hopped up off the counter with a sigh. “Well, it’s been real. I’ll see you tomorrow at graduation. Maybe we can even chill afterwards or something, if I don’t get my ass busted for god knows what,” she said, feeling like there was more to her mom’s request for her to get home.

“Okay, cool.”

She walked to the living room, flipping Pietro the finger as she strode through. Stepping out to the lawn, she straddled her bike. Riding it down the street as slowly as she could. Not wanting to go help her mom with whatever it was she needed.

The Rogers lived towards the end of the cul-de-sac. Where the trees started to become thicker and more frequent. Thousand year old oak trees towered on the sides of the street, creating a canopy of greenery. Beams of hot afternoon sun peeked through, kissing Dove’s freckled skin as she peddled her bike.

She pulled up to her house—the picturesque, colonial home. White exterior. Picket fence. Ivy growing over the trellis. Exactly what everyone wants when they imagine their own perfect, middle-class, suburban future.

Resting her bike up against the side of the porch, Dove stomped up the front steps. Kicking the front door open with a harsh shove. “ _Home,_ ” she yelled.

“Kitchen,” her mom yelled back.

Dove dropped down her backpack, kicking off her sneakers at the door before walking down the hallway. When she stepped into the kitchen, her mom was in her apron, standing over the wood paneled stove stirring a pot of something. Large portions of food were sitting prepped on the sage colored counters. It smelt like something sweet was baking in the oven.

Her mom, Sarah, spun around with a huge grin. The corners of her eyes wrinkling from spending her entire life being the friendliest person in the world. Her blonde hair was mixed with stray white hairs, pinned back away from her face while she cooked. “Hi, Lovey Dovey. How was your last day of school?”

“Uh fine, I guess,” she responded indifferently, grabbing a piece of a chopped carrot and popping it into her mouth. “What’s with the feast?” she asked with the carrot tucked into her cheek, gesturing to the counter.

“Stevie is coming home today. Did you forget?”

Dove slowly caught on. “Riiight. Big brother home for the summer. Fun stuff.” Her words practically frigid with how unenthusiastically she spoke.

Steve was a few years older than Dove. He had just finished his junior year at USC, getting a full-ride scholarship all because he could throw a football further than the average person. He’d always been the perfect son to their parents. Getting good grades and following the rules— a total narc in Dove’s eyes. He was the golden child, while she was the problematic wild child.

From a long line, full of Elizabeths, Susans, and Marys there was… _Dove_. She truly felt like her mom could feel that she was different even in the womb. That she would be the black sheep of the family. Or _a flamingo in a flock of pigeons,_ as Dove liked to say.

Endlessly barefoot, never brushing her messy blonde hair, always favoring the oddities in life. Things that were almost unthinkable in the Rogers household. She was a bit of a screw-up, sure, but her mom was always supportive. Despite their differences, she gave into her daughter’s ways and found them to be endearing. That couldn’t quite be said for her father though.

“ _Dove,_ ” he boomed, making her spin around. He was a large guy, standing well over most other men and had the strength of two in his body. His sandy brown hair was neatly brushed back, as always. Holding his ever-present cigarette between his thick, calloused fingers as he gestured to her outfit. “You wore that to _school_?”

She stared down at her outfit with a frown. She wore a cropped tank top with a pair of high-rise bell-bottomed jeans. A strip of skin was showing from between the pieces. She looked back up and shrugged. “Yeah? It was hot out. What were they gonna go, expel me?” she laughed. “Not like I’ll be stepping foot in the building ever again.”

“I do not approve. Even if it was hot out today, that’s too much skin. You look like a damn hippie,” he said as he walked over to press a kiss to Sarah’s cheek, whispering something to her that made her laugh, then moving to grab a beer from the fridge.

“Good to see you too, _Joseph,”_ Dove muttered. Well used to her dad’s irritatingly conservative opinions. She turned to her mom, getting back to their conversation before. “Um, Wanda said you needed me to do something? Er— help? With something?” She frowned as she looked at the ceiling, trying to remember what she said.

Sarah hit the ladle over the side of the pot, knocking off the drops of sauce before setting it down. “Yes, I need you to change the bedsheets in the guest room and then straighten up your room a bit for me.”

“ _Guest room?_ Why can’t Steve stay in his room?”

“Oh, I didn’t tell you?” she asked, looking over her shoulder, “Bucky is staying with us for the summer.”

Dove’s eyes went wide for a millisecond, before her expression snapped into a disgusted cringe. “ _Ew_. Why? He literally lives at the end of the road.”

“Because his mom is going to be gone for the summer with his little sister and she asked us to look after him.”

She laughed loudly, climbing onto one of the stools at the counter, suddenly more interested in the conversation. “He’s literally twenty-one. Why does he need to be babysat?”

“He won’t be here all the time, Lovey. Just most of it,” Sarah explained sweetly, “he’s welcome to come and go as he pleases, but we’re letting him stay here so he won’t have to worry about groceries.”

Dove groaned, head falling into her hands. “Mom, that guy has no real responsibilities. I’m sure buying his own groceries would do some good. Also, he’s just… _such_ a douche.”

“Now that’s just rude,” Joseph scolded bringing his beer bottle away from his lips just as he was about to take a sip.

“It’s true. He’s spoiled and entitled and— and I just don’t want him here everyday.” Dove ran her fingers through her hair, getting annoyed by just the thought of him. “He has a whole ass _mansion_ to stay in and I’m sure he’d love having it to himself all summer.”

“If he wants to stay there he can, but we promised Winnifred that we’d keep an eye on him and be here if he needs help.”

“But—” Dove started.

“End of discussion,” Joseph cut her off, “Bucky is a good guy and you shouldn’t be so rude. He’ll be staying here for the summer and that’s final. Now listen to your mother and go take care of business. The boys will be here soon.”

She sighed, standing from her seat. “Good talk, guys.”

When Dove got upstairs, she dug through the linen closet to find a fresh set of sheets for the guest bed. Smirking to herself when she saw the ones from when she was a little girl. Princess tiaras smattered over the blush pink color. “Perfect,” she whispered to herself.

After changing the sheets in the guest room, she shoved her pile of dirty laundry under her bed—‘cleaning’. She reorganized the books and stray pieces of jewelry on top of her dresser and pulled the floral print covers back on her bed. The job was half-assed, but after the long arduous day of finals at school, all she wanted was to just relax.

Once her room looked somewhat decent, Dove put on a record and sat tucked into her window seat to journal. The small alcove was surrounded by windows that faced the front of the house. Knit blankets and throw pillows created a small nest for her that she often found herself cuddled up in to read or write.

Scribbling out words saturated with the mourning of her relaxing summer. She had been looking forward to vegging out at home by herself, since her parents went to their beach house almost every weekend over the summer. They got into the habit of being gone from Saturday morning to Sunday night her freshman year, leaving her to fend for herself. Call it trust or even just shitty parenting, but either way Dove didn’t mind. In fact, she loved having the house to herself.

Thing was, that was all about to be ruined with the presence of her least favorite person. The spoiled rich kid from down the road, Steve’s best friend since diapers, the Casanova, the irritatingly handsome pretty boy: _James fuckin’ Barnes_. Bucky _,_ as all of his friends and most of Roseworth called him.

Dove wasn’t quite sure when her hatred for him started. Maybe it was that time he pantsed her in the grocery store. Or maybe it was when he put gum in her hair right before picture day. Or maybe even when he stole her piggy bank and wouldn’t give it back until she gave him five bucks from it. Or maybe just built up anger from every time he called her that stupid nickname _Little Wing_ , mocking the fact that her name was Dove. All of these memories sandwiched between noogies and jokes at her expense.

The fact that he’d gone to school at Stanford was a godsend. Dove had figured she’d be long gone before he graduated and would never see him again, except maybe on occasion for big events in Steve’s life. She was glad to be rid of the guy, but that notion had faded away with the news of his arrival.

Bucky was going to ruin her summer and she knew it.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Steve’s faded blue truck rolling up to the house. She watched from her window as he jumped out, slamming his door roughly behind him, and reaching into the bed to grab his bags.

A beat later, Bucky parked just behind him in his shiny black BMW.

“ _Rich kid,_ ” Dove muttered to herself, slamming her journal shut as she watched him step out of his car and start following Steve towards the house. He was in a short-sleeve collared shirt, tucked into a tight pair of jeans. His short brown hair was so neatly coiffed it made her sick. She could see his golden chain he always wore peeking out from under his shirt and those damned rings on his fingers.

_How the hell did he look so perfect even after driving for ten hours?_

Bucky did a double take, freezing in his tracks, when he saw Dove glaring at him from her window. He gave her a sly wink, making her jaw drop in anger. She clamped her mouth back shut and grabbed her curtains in tightened fists, yanking them shut.

She let out an irritated huff between her lips, falling down to her back on the cushioned nook. “ _God,_ ” she groaned, shoving her face into one of her throw pillows.

Letting herself spiral in anger for a minute, she heard muffled yelling coming from downstairs. Growing louder and louder, mixed with booming footsteps. A second later, her bedroom door was kicked open.

Steve came rushing into her room wearing a huge smile, scooping her up from her spot and throwing her over his shoulder. “What’s going on, little sis?” he teased as he spun her around.

“Dude, chill out,” she laughed.

He set her back to her feet, grinning down at her. “How does it feel to no longer be a high schooler?”

“I feel the same I guess.” She shrugged. Knowing the only way she would feel truly free of her binds would be to move across the country.

“Well don’t worry, kid. Life only gets better from here.” His hand pet the top of her head.

“ _Kid_? What, you think you’re all grown up now?” She rolled her eyes, shoving his hand off of her.

Steve chuckled, throwing an arm over her shoulders as he turned them to walk out of her room. “No, but I am older than you and I think you should heed my advice some more. I know what I'm talking about… most of the time.”

“Also,” he continued before she could respond, “I hope you’re not too pissed about Bucky staying here.”

“ _Oh_ , I am,” she griped as they walked down the hall together.

He let out a sigh. “I figured, but I think it’ll be fine. You’ve both matured a lot and I think as long as you stay civil with him, the summer will go well.”

“ _I_ think as long as he stays the hell away from me, the summer will go well.”

“Alright, Dovey. Whatever you say.” He shook his head.

As they made their way down the stairs, convivial conversation from the kitchen became audible. When they walked in, Bucky was making Joseph and Sarah laugh loudly about something. Smiling to himself, clearly pleased with the reaction he pulled from them.

Dove never understood how he seemed to charm everyone around him. Especially her parents. It was like he could do no wrong in their eyes, no matter what. The whole thing always made her feel like there was something she was missing. Like there was something they knew that she didn’t.

Bucky patted Joseph on the shoulder, letting out a few more laughs before finally looking to the doorway to find Dove standing beside Steve. Not only wearing her scowl like a mask, but an outfit that defined just how much she had grownup. His gaze was caught on that sliver of skin showing under her top, before slowly raking over the curve of her hips, then up to her chest. She looked _fucking_ _good_. A little too good. Three years apart had done her well.

Finally, ripping back up to meet her eye line, he saw her glare had only intensified. Her feminine features, framed by her mop of blonde hair, contorted into a formidable scowl

“Hey, Dove,” Bucky said with a tone that was simply polite, but the look in his eyes drove her mad. It was like he knew exactly how pissed she was that he was there and was rubbing it in.

She hated the way his lips curled naturally, the way they seemed to constantly rest somewhere between a pout and a smirk. This feature only enhanced by the cocky bastard’s smug grin. His friendly tone was clearly a front because her parents were around. Knowing deep down that he’d probably be an ass the second they had a moment alone. Irritation swirled in her core, making her grit her teeth.

Steve elbowed her side, making her snap out of her spiraling. She realized she had been standing there glaring at him for a bit too long. Finding her voice, she mustered out a quick “hi”, in return.

Sarah gave Dove a pitied look before forcing a smile. “Alright, everyone sit down at the table. Lovey, help me with the plates, would you?”

The two of them started grabbing handfuls of food-covered porcelain dishes, moving them to the table. Dove set down a plate in front of Steve and her dad, then went to grab the last one. When she walked back over, she saw the only open placement was the one sitting in front of Bucky. She huffed in irritation and rounded the table to set the plate down in front of him. Chest slightly brushing against his shoulder as she leaned over.

He was sightly startled by the contact, but didn’t show a smidge of a reaction. The scent of grapefruit and honey wafted from a strand of hair that had slipped out from behind her ear as she leaned forward. He took it in for a moment, enjoying the closeness a bit too much.

Catching himself before his thoughts could wander, Bucky came up with a witty jab in his mind. So subtle, no one would think anything of it. “Thanks, _Little Wing,”_ he said under his breath. Using the nickname he would use when they were young, mocking her.

Dove felt heat grow behind her cheeks for a half second, before she narrowed her eyes at him, swiftly turning away to sit down across from him. She kept her head down as they ate. Doing everything in her power to not look up at Bucky.

Steve was asking her about her plans for summer and she was going off on a tangent about wanting to spend her time writing. Being the youngest at the table, with the most unfavored interests, she had developed the habit of smuggling as much information into the fewest possible words. She spoke fast, expressing her fierce passion for literature to a crowd that couldn’t care less. Slowly, she became aware of a keen glance resting on her from across the table.

When she locked eyes with Bucky, he was actually listening. He seemed to be genuinely interested in what she had to say. What startled her more than his reaction was hers. She felt something odd growing inside of her at the sudden attention from him. Unsure of what it was, she figured it was simply more hatred for him, so she ripped her eyes away back to Steve sitting just on the other side of Bucky.

“That sounds great,” Steve replied, in a kind, but hollowed and appeasing tone. He didn’t know who Dostoevsky was or what literary theory had to do with that little journal she always had, but he still supported her in whatever she did.

Dove nodded, feeling a bit let down by his reaction. When she peeked back over to Bucky to see if he was still looking at her with that oddly genuine expression, it had shifted completely. She was met with an icy glare. Something that was vitrified and bordered on cruel.

Instantly breaking her from the short-lived softening towards him, her head dropped back down to her food. She was left utterly confused by the sudden shift in attitude, but brushed it off as her eyes playing tricks on her. Gathering a bite on her fork and shoveling it in her mouth, like she was trying to somehow bury the uncharacteristically strong and indefinable emotion welling inside of her.

“Did you talk to Randy about working at the shop this summer?” Joseph asked Steve.

“Yeah, I called last week and I start in a couple of days,” he nodded, “I’m hoping I can work on my own car this summer a bit too. Old girl is falling to pieces.”

“Well, maybe we can look into finding you a new one.”

Dove scoffed. “I don’t even have a car yet and you’re going to buy Steve a _second_ one?”

“He saved up and paid for half, Lovey.” Sarah frowned. “I thought you liked riding your bike.”

“Yeah, you said it’s good for the environment or something right?” Joseph chortledat the notion through a bite. “When we asked if you were going to save up money for a car, you said, and I quote ‘ _only conformists that want to destroy the planet drive cars_ ’.”

Bucky snorted as he kept his head down. Picking at his food, trying to hide his smile.

“I _don’t_ want a car,” she spat, “I won’t even need one when I move to the city in a few years anyways. I’m just saying that you guys spoil Steve way too much.”

“Dove, stop.” Joseph raised his brows. “Don’t be rude in front of our guest,” nodding to Bucky, “and you’re not moving away, we’ve already discussed this.”

She took his words like a slap to the face. Wincing at the sting of the aftermath. Staying silent in response to an argument wasn’t something Dove did well. She sat simmering, forcefully stabbing a bite of food onto her fork, mentally berating him instead.

It wasn’t until she felt a tap to her foot, that she looked up. Bucky wore a sorry smile, staring at her with his piercing slate blue eyes. As if to say— I see you

* * *

Mood board for Dove:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey babes! So glad to be back, you have no idea!
> 
> How are we feeling so far? shout it out💕
> 
> I'll try my hardest to post every Friday. Might be early or late on occasion, but I'll do my best!


	2. The Future

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was planning to post on Friday, but I was productive this week so here I am a couple days early!

There’s nothing quite like sleeping in on that first day of summer vacation.

Dove rolled out of bed and slipped on one of her massive tees she always wore as a dress, then wrapped her mane of hair into a huge bun. When she finally made it out of her room, the house was silent. Her parents had gone off to work for the day and she figured Steve was over at the car shop, all of them planning to be off early enough for her graduation ceremony in the afternoon.

After she had a couple strawberry Pop-Tarts and her first cup of coffee for the day, Dove tucked a pen behind her ear, found the novel she was currently reading, and moved out to the backyard. To the spot she spent most of her days in the summer— _her_ spot.

Nestled under a giant oak tree that shot up from a sea of flowers. The one that was covered in moss and lichen, and had been there long before there was even a town surrounding it. Dove lied flat onto the lush grass, rolling over onto her belly as she flicked through the note covered pages of her book, to the part she left off at the day before. Her head was propped up by her hand as her legs were in the air, oscillating. She would lazily turn a page and her eyes would continue their race across the text.

The sounds of those chubby, spotted birds that she loved rang around her, but she tuned them out. Attention caught up in the literature, marking notes with her pen. Underlining passages that she found particularly moving. Drawing out ideas for her own works.

Chewing on the end of her pen, Dove felt the intense heat of the sun starting to seep through the fabric of her t-shirt, making her sweat. After almost an hour of lounging, it seemed that despite the soft breeze’s efforts, the scorching midday warmth was pricking her skin.

When she went to shift her spot further into the shade of the tree, she saw movement out of the corner of her eye.

Bucky was sitting at the outdoor table on the opposite edge of the yard. Crossing one leg over the other, staring at a newspaper through his sunglasses. His hair was resting just so at the top of his head in a perfect swoop. Wearing a thin shirt that was buttoned so low, the neckline rested at the center of his chest. His golden chain glinted under the harsh sunlight, resting over his tanned skin.

_How long had he been sitting there?_

Realizing much too late that she was caught staring, Dove met his gaze. His expression was hard for her to decipher as it was, but with his nearly black sunglasses on, she was left in the dark. From what she could tell, the look was resting somewhere between arrogant and calculating, apparent from the small quirk in his lips and the tilt of his head.

What she didn’t realize was that Bucky had been watching her since he first stepped outside, roughly twenty minutes before she even noticed him. Pretending to look at the newspaper while he simply gazed over the top of the page, through his sunglasses. He sat transfixed by how her shirt barely covered her. The stretched neckline was draped over one of her shoulders and the hem was resting _just_ under the curve of her ass.

He was entranced by the way she chewed on the tip of her pen and swung her legs in the air as she read. The way the bright sun was shining onto her blonde hair, like a golden gossamer under the light. She looked almost angelic, surrounded by so much overgrown greenery, not glaring at or berating him for once.

Dove’s mouth felt more and more parched the longer the stared. Convincing herself it was just the heat getting to her, she clapped her book shut and hopped to her feet. Figuring she might as well start getting ready for her graduation.

She strode barefoot across the heated grass. Toes scrunching into nature’s shag carpet, towards the back door. Bucky cleared his throat as she passed by, lowering his glasses down the bridge of his nose to get a better look at her. “What are you reading?” He nodded to the book in her hand.

“None of your business,” she sneered.

He made a gruff laughing noise from his throat, making his Adam’s apple bob as he looked back to his paper. “Okay then.”

The aloof response made Dove stop in her tracks, whipping around to look down at him. “Why do you care?” Although her inquiry was a harsh, argumentative one, part of her was also curious to know why he showed a sudden interest in her. It was a shock to say the least, considering he had grown to practically ignore her existence altogether by his senior year of high school and she hadn’t seen him once since he left for college.

“Just trying to make conversation, Dove.” He glanced back up from the newspaper, folding it shut as he spoke through a smirk. “Ya know, we’re gonna be seeing a lot of each other this summer. We might as well embrace it.”

Dove crossed her arms, raising a skeptical brow. Feeling as if he was mocking her under the guise of civility. “ _Embrace it?_ What exactly does that mean?”

“I’ve known you almost your whole life, but I feel like I know nothing _about_ you.” His words were painfully true. Not that he ever cared to get to know her growing up. In his eyes, she was just his friend’s little sister. Nothing more. Just someone he saw in passing and would occasionally pick on for some fun. “Also, I’ve been gone for three years. We should catch up a bit.”

Dove was an interesting little lady. She was witty and adventurous and Bucky couldn’t deny the part of him that wanted to delve a bit deeper into what her world was like. Perhaps it was out of sheer boredom. He couldn’t be sure yet. Either way, he was hoping her response would at least humor him. But those hopes were cut short by a cold “I’ll pass, _thanks,_ ” coming from her lips.

“Figured,” he chuckled to himself. “Oh, also I wanted to thank you for the laugh.”

She put her hands on her hips, tilting her head. “What do you mean?”

“The princess bedsheets,” he explained, lifting his sunglasses from his nose and hooking them onto his shirt, then flashing that boyish smile he wore so often. The one he knew made all the girls go weak at the knees. Peeking up at her with his bright blue eyes. “I’m guessing that was you.”

Dove shifted her weight to the opposite leg, trying to fight back the grin that dared to spread over her face. “I’m neither confirming nor denying anything.”

“Whatever you say, _princess,_ ” Bucky laughed. He flicked the paper back open, continuing where he left off, catching up on articles he had missed since he spent the day before driving up from Stanford.

Her brows pinched at the term, unsure if she should be offended or not. At least it was better than ‘Little Wing’, Dove thought. “I gotta go,” she muttered, turning to leave.

“Where to?” he asked, halting her escape yet again.

“Graduation ceremony.”

Bucky frowned, looking confused by her response. “I thought that wasn’t until later?”

“I have rehearsals first, so I’m riding there with my friends,” Dove explained. She was still reluctant to even be speaking to the guy, so her words were rushed and calloused. Irritated with his questioning.

“Right, I forgot about the whole rehearsal thing,” he said thoughtfully, “ _god_ , that sucked.”

Dove arched a brow at him, completely put off by his tenacious attempts to connect with her. She eyed him for a moment, then hummed in a semblance of a response to his comment.

Bucky glanced at his watch, thinking to himself. “I should probably quit lounging too. I have some things to take care of.”

“What the hell do _you_ have to do?” Her head jolted back, unable to think of a single responsibility he might have. “Gotta go practice your polo game? Or is it… yacht shopping today?” she asked facetiously, pretending to look up in thought, tapping her lips with her finger.

His eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched as he glared up at her for a moment before looking back down to his paper, not uttering a word in response.

Dove almost felt bad after seeing his reaction. _Almost_. But then she forced a few bad memories to the forefront of her brain and that odd flash of empathy faded to nothingness. She stood there staring at him, wondering if he’d finally come up with some snappy retort. After another awkward second of silence, she gave him a careless “later,” finally turning to head inside.

She marched straight to the shower. Turning the water as cold as she could and stepping in to cool herself off from the heat outside that had seeped into the house. Gasping when the icy downpour washed over her, instantly feeling a thousand times better.

Once Dove was cleaned off, she dried her hair and even did some light makeup— both of which, she rarely made the time to do most days, but she knew there would definitely be a plethora of pictures taken over the afternoon and she didn’t want to look plain. She changed into her white mini dress and then looked down at the uncomfortable heels her mom had bought to match her apparel. Snickering when she remembered Sarah basically threatening her with death if she wore her sneakers instead.

Considering the consequences for barely a second, Dove slipped on her sneakers. As she stood up from tying them, she heard honking coming from out front. When she looked out her bedroom window, she saw Peter’s car parked beside the curb, so she grabbed her ugly red robe and cap from her closet and ran downstairs.

She pulled her robe on while she walked across her front lawn up to the car. Then hopping into the backseat beside Wanda, with Mj in the front seat beside Peter like always. “You guys ready for the most painful afternoon of our lives?”

“You know it,” Wanda said, rolling her eyes as the car rolled down the street.

Dove felt like a sheep. Walking in the line of her classmates through the otherwise empty halls of their high school for the last couple of hours in rehearsals, everyone wearing the same robe and cap. Being guided by her old math teacher who was acting as a shepherd to the group. Shouting out commands to them occasionally as they made their way to the gymnasium. Booming things like, ‘ _hurry up’_ or _‘stop doing that’_ to the group of teens.

The fact that they were made to rehearse sitting in chairs and then walking across a stage was just about the dumbest thing Dove had ever heard. It’s not like it was a difficult task by any means, and by the end, she felt nothing but apathy towards the whole event

Even when it was time for the real ceremony, not a single part of her felt sentimental. Her head carelessly bobbed with each of her trudges. Her sneakers, squeaking over the linoleum floors.

She could see part of Peter’s head walking just a few bodies in front of her, since they were organized alphabetically. If she craned her neck enough, she could find Pietro and Wanda standing with the other M’s and if she looked back, she could see Mj with the W’s.

They reached the gym doors that were propped open by two other staff members and— again, much like sheep, were herded inside.

The bleachers were covered in everyones families and distant relatives that somehow found a high school graduation important enough to sit through hours of poorly written speeches, being given by nervous young adults and washed up teachers.

Dove easily found her family— unsurprisingly, sitting just beside the Maximoff’s— since Steve was on his feet cheering obnoxiously for her. What she was surprised to see though, was that Bucky was there in the spot just beside him, dressed well as always, calmly clapping his hands like everyone else was. She swore, even from a distance, she could see him giving her his usual arrogant smile.

There was a small pool of folding chairs in the center of the gym, facing the decorated stage that was covered in faculty, sitting in more of those uncomfortable plastic folding chairs, with a podium resting in the center.

As the line of graduates was led into their corresponding rows of chairs, Dove was relieved that with the way they were seated, Wanda was placed right in front of her.

“Pssst. Wands,” Dove whispered, leaning forward in her chair.

Wanda peeked over her shoulder, grinning widely back at her and wiggling her brows. She reached a hand back and Dove gave it a soft squeeze. “Dude, what are you doing later?”

She frowned, muttering a pitiful, “family dinner,” in response.

“Ugh, bummer,” Wanda sighed. “ How about _after_?” she asked. Pinching her index finger and thumb together and holding them to her lips, making a smoking gesture.

“Hell yeah.”

Pietro, who was seated just beside her, turned and shushed aggressively. Holding a finger to his lips, glaring between the two of them. “Shut the hell up,” he scream-whispered.

Wanda and Dove both rolled their eyes, shifting back in their seats as their principal made his way up to the podium at the center of the stage.

The whole ceremony seemed to drag on forever. It seemed like everyone given the opportunity to speak had the mutual goal to make everyone else in the room wish they were dead. The same sentiments were repeated time and time again into the terribly out of date microphone. Every speech somehow always included the cheesy phrase ‘this adventure we call life’.

Along with the droning, mind-numbing monologues coming over the shoddy speakers on the sides of the stage, the heat filling the space was unbearable. A combination of too many bodies being packed together, the scorching weather, and the broken air conditioning in the ancient building.

Relatives of the graduates were cooling themselves with their emerald trifold programs. What was supposed to be used for outlining the order of segments for the ceremony, was now the perfect makeshift fan for the audience.

Once the speeches commenced, there was a performance by the senior class choir, which seemed to cue everyone in the room to instantly tune out.

By that point, none of the graduates were even _trying_ to hide their lack of interest. Everyone had turned in their seats and were talking amongst themselves. Wanda had spun around so she was straddling her chair, chatting with Dove and Pietro. They were trying to teach him how to braid hair— because that’s just how bored they were.

He was holding a few stands of Wanda’s long auburn hair, fumbling to get them wound together, dropping the weave and then getting frustrated when he had to start over. “It’s too damn hard, guys.”

“Just go slower, idiot.” Wanda laughed.

“I’m _trying,_ but your hair keeps slipping out. I just think it’s because I’m a guy. Guys aren’t good at this shit. I’m convinced girls’ fingers are shaped differently or something.”

“No, don’t be like that. Don’t be sexist,” Wanda corrected in her ever present feministic ways, “you’re just a clumsy brute, it has nothing to do with gender.”

Dove snickered at the exchange between the twins, looking over her shoulder, scanning over her classmates. Laughing when she saw that Mj had moved from her seat and walked over to sit with Peter, without a care. She was just like that. Sorta odd in her ways, but quiet enough that teachers never really questioned her. Throughout high school, she would sit and read in class, rarely tuning into whatever was actually being taught, but would somehow still get top tier grades.

Mj tucked back a ringlet of her long curly hair, silently staring up at Peter while he talked her ear off about something. When her eyes shifted over the crowd, she locked in on Dove and tossed up a peace sign. Peter followed her gaze and shook his hand rapidly at Dove, beaming at her from across the row of students.

Dove waved back to them, internally laughing about what a peculiar pair the two of them were. Basically complete opposites, but still, somehow perfect.

After two more songs from the choir, none of which anyone knew, their principal finally started calling names. Starting at the A’s, names were announced and graduates stood in their rows and walked across the stage, accepting their diplomas and shaking a few hands.

When Dove’s row stood, she looked up at the bleachers to find her parents staring down at her. Sarah was snapping pictures and excitedly clapping, looking like she was about to explode with pride, while Joseph was flashing one of his rare smiles. Steve and Bucky were deep in conversation, joking about something stupid like always, Dove figured.

Her row was slowly shuffled to the stairs on the side of the stage, walking across as their names were called out. When her name was called, she started her march forward, shaking the hands being extended to her. A few of her teachers from her four years in the hellhole, the vice principal, and then finally her principal— who handed her the rolled diploma and gave her a solid handshake.

She looked up to the bleachers, finding her whole family standing to their feet clapping for her. Steve let out an ear-piercing whistle, tucking his fingertips in his mouth as it rang out in a high pitched shrill, echoing in the lofty gym. Her face turned beet red and she turned ahead to walk off the stage, back to her seat.

As Dove sat back down and the row behind her stood, Wanda whipped around beaming at her. “We did it, Dovey.”

She gave her a wide grin, waving her diploma in front of her face.

When the last of the names were called, everyone tossed their caps into the air and the audience started to descend from the stands, mixing with the graduates. Families were hugging, a few tears were shed, but more than anything, everyone collectively seemed eager to get the hell out of the overheated room.

Dove was nearly knocked over by Steve’s hulking body when he threw his arms around her. Followed by her parents, both of them congratulating her and gushing over how proud they were. Sarah— of course— taking a moment to look pointedly at Dove’s choice of shoes and give her a “seriously, Lovey?” in that tone she often used when scolding her daughter. Never angry, but more of an amused disappointment. Usually just laughing and shaking her head in response to whatever shenanigans Dove got into.

Once they all got over their initial excitement, Joseph suggested they all head out to the car. As they started to move out of the crowd, Dove looked up to Bucky seeing that he was smiling down at her. “Congrats, Little Wing,” he said mockingly, when her parents were just out of earshot.

Her lip twitched with a scowl. “Why’d you even show up?”

“You kidding? I wouldn’t dare pass up this spectacular event. It’s the social highlight of the season,” he joked, gesturing around the rundown gym and sweaty crowd before looking back down at Dove. He grabbed a pinch of the billowy robe she wore and gave it a light tug. “You look _great_ by the way,” he teased, raising his brows with a playful smile.

She shoved his hand away, pulling the red smock from her shoulders and tucking it under her arm. “God, I hate you,” she muttered as she turned to follow her parents and Steve.

“Hate you too,” Bucky said back, chuckling slightly.

The parking lot was packed with families walking out to their cars. Sure enough, when Dove saw Wanda, she sprinted her way. Jumping into her arms, making her laugh. They spun around together, manically giggling over the fact that they were officially done with high school.

“Are you sure you can’t get out of dinner?” Wanda asked, pressing Dove about hanging out again.

Dove shook her head. “We can hang out afterwards, but my mom really wants all of us to eat together tonight.”

Sarah knew that once summer started, it would be rare to have everyone home at the same time. With everyone’s demanding work schedules and Dove’s busy social life, family dinners were a rare, maybe once a week occurrence if that. So, she had to get everyone together while she still could.

When Dove looked over her shoulder, she saw that she and Wanda’s parents had picked up conversation, standing beside their wood paneled station wagon. The girls had been friends for years, so over time the couples had bonded, despite their fundamentally different parenting styles.

Sarah locked eyes with her daughter and something clicked in her mind. “Oh! I need a picture of you two,” she said, rushing over to Dove and Wanda with her camera, “come on, scoot together,”she urged, gesturing with her freehand.

Dove threw her arm over Wanda’s shoulder, scooting snug to her side and smiling back at her mom as she took a few pictures of the pair.

“Okay, let’s get the boys in here too,” Sarah said, winding up the camera in her hand, “Pietro, Stevie, get over here.” She looked back at them waving them over.

Steve wedged himself between Dove and Wanda, while Pietro stood on the other side of his twin. All of them grinning back at Sarah through the camera lens.

“Oh wait, Bucky, you should get in there too,” Sarah said, smiling sweetly at him, nodding to the group.

Dove cringed at the thought of Bucky being encased in one of her cherished memories. Wanting to object to her mom’s offer, but her irritation was cut short by the shock of him walking right towards her without a second thought and standing up against her side.

His arm slid around her waist as they all smushed together. The touch was so light, it was barely even there, but all of her focus went straight to where they were connected. He stepped closer to her, so they were practically pressed together. With him towering over her, all too close, she had to consciously fight the urge to rip away and maintain her fake smile.

Sarah snapped another set of pictures after what felt like an eternity of adjusting the camera. The entire time, Dove could feel her heartbeat in her ears and the warmth radiating off Bucky’s body, along with the scorching heat overhead. The guy smelt sickeningly good. Like fancy cologne. Pine and citrus, she guessed.

The second she heard the click of the camera, Dove dipped under Bucky’s arm, ripping herself free from his touch. She grabbed Wanda’s wrist, moving her away from the group. “Dude, I swear my mom is too nice sometimes. I don’t get why she had to include that asshole. I don’t want him in my pictures,” she whispered so no one would hear her speaking so harshly about Bucky.

Wanda laughed. “Chill out. It’s just a picture”

“You know I’m right. It’s just so annoying—” Hearing her name called, Dove cut herself off and looked over to her family. She locked eyes with Joseph, who proceeded to tap his watch at her, silently reminding her of their family plans. “We’ll talk about it later, I gotta go dude.”

“It’s fine,” she said, “see you later.”

Dove gave her a nod, then walked over to hop in the backseat of the car beside Steve, with Bucky on the other side of him.

When they got back home, Dove went straight up to her bedroom. Chucking her robe on top of the pile of dirty clothes that always sat just beside her laundry basket. She fell down onto her bed, needing a moment to herself after the day she had.

Dove never had much patience, even from a young age. She hated being told what to do, so the fact that she was wearing an outfit that was _selected for her_ , having to listen to people she _didn’t respect_ talk about things she _didn’t care about_ for hours left her mentally exhausted.

Pulling out her journal, she soaked up the isolation. Thankful she was able to sneak away before being asked to help cook. She let her worries melt away, turning them into beautifully formed sentences.

About an hour passed before the smell of food hit her nose, making her sit up from her bed. Realizing she had been so immersed her writing, she had lost track of time. She changed out of her dress into one of her t-shirts and a pair of shorts and walked downstairs.

When she stepped into the kitchen, she instantly regretted leaving her bedroom. Bucky was standing beside her mom at the counter, still in his nice clothes from the ceremony. They were both laughing about something while she showed him how to plate up the pasta.

Dove scrunched her face at the image of them together. Yet another harsh reminder that everyone that met Bucky, adored him. Sure, he was charming, well-mannered, and handsome, but Dove hated that it was being reinforced in her brain. She already felt so different from her family, so the fact that she was quite literally the only one that felt sour about the guy made her feel even more alone than she usually did.

For someone known to love spotting defects in others, Dove derived a certain satisfaction in judging the guy a bit harshly. But the sight of him being so kind with her mother made it hard to do for the moment. No longer able to settle for her usual indifference, hostility, or even spite towards Bucky, she simply stood frozen, staring angrily at the pair.

Caught where she stood, Bucky’s eyes locked in on her. Unsurprised by her presence. As if he were expecting— maybe even hoping for her to walk in at that exact moment. And he was. He loved to see Dove’s infuriated reaction to something as simple as him having a pleasant time helping with dinner. It upset her so much and he found it endlessly amusing. Perhaps even a little cute.

Sarah sweetly urged Bucky to continue plating so she could start taking the dishes over to the dining table, where a salad was already sitting ready for all of them. She saw Dove standing in the doorway and gave her a quick greeting and then told her to go grab Steve and her father from out back.

When they were finally all getting seated, Sarah made a big deal of thanking Bucky for his work in the kitchen. Explaining that he cut all of the vegetables for her to make Dove’s favorite. Referring to him as her ‘helper’ as she gushed about how generous he was.

Dove felt like she was going to be sick. She knew Sarah was just being kind like she always was— basically a second mom to all of Dove and Steve’s friends growing up, but the fact that Bucky was on the receiving end made her bitter.

Joseph, seated at the head of the table, put out his cigarette as he gruffly cleared his throat and made a short toast to congratulate Dove on her graduation. Making a point to add on that he was glad she’d be at the nearby community college— RCC— in the fall. She didn’t make any attempt to complain, knowing it was supposed to be a happy night and any mention of her reluctance would surely end in a blowout fight.

Instead, Dove simply smiled and raised her glass of water to everyone else’s cocktails and beers. Not uttering much in response besides a strained, “thanks, dad.”

Sure enough, once everyone started eating, the conversation shifted to a focus on Steve’s oh so important upcoming football season. It would be his last, since it was his senior year of college and their dad was clearly getting a little carried away discussing it. Promising he and Sarah would go to as many games as they could. Vowing to make the drive down to USC at least once a month.

Dove subtly rolled her eyes, smirking to herself about how ridiculous her dad sounded fawning over Steve’s football career. As talented as he was, he wasn’t going pro. His plan was to move back to Roseworth and start working for Joseph’s construction company, then would eventually take it over.

Sounded like a fucking waste of time to put education second just to throw a ball around a field and not even make a career out of it, Dove thought. She snickered to herself, figuring no one even spared her enough attention to notice the odd moment of internal humor.

What she didn’t see, was that Bucky had been staring at her when she made the little squeaky sound. His brows quirked wondering what was going on in that head of hers. He longed to know exactly what she was thinking. To hear her speak freely. To hear her strong opinions she seemed to have about everything around her. The ones she would often stifle in front of her dad, he noted.

Before he could stop himself, Bucky licked his lips to speak. Hoping to pry some semblance of information from her. Even if it wasn’t what she was giggling over, he just wanted to hear her thoughts. “Have you decided what you want to major in, Dove? Or have you even thought about it yet?”

Dove’s head whipped up, staring into his eyes in confusion. When she looked to the rest of the table, they were still deep in conversation about Steve, so some of the pressure she felt had subsided. She never felt very confident to speak her mind around her dad, so seeing that he didn’t even register that Bucky had asked her a question prompted her to respond.

“Creative writing,” she replied simply. Trying to remain civil towards Bucky, at least while at the table.

He took a bite of his pasta, humming while he chewed. “You wouldn’t want to major in marketing or journalism or anything like that? It would still allow you to write but it could be a more… steady career move.”

Dove frowned. “I could never work in either of those positions.” She knew what was coming when he asked the question. It was the usual response everyone received when they were headed down a creative path. _‘You’ll never have a steady income’_ , _‘it’s a competitive industry’, ‘what makes you think you’ll be good enough?’_. She had heard it all, so it came as no surprise that one of those default responses was sent her way.

What did surprise her though was when Bucky replied with a casual, “well hey, what do _I_ know? Steve’s told me you’re a damn good writer, so why not go after it, huh?” he said, taking a sip of his beer.

Unable to help the smile that bloomed, Dove looked down to her plate in some weak attempt to conceal her joy. When she was able to return to her stoic expression, she looked back up at him. “Uh, yeah. I always did really well in my English classes and I write a lot, so I feel like I could do well for myself.”

“Why _couldn’t_ you work in something like marketing or journalism though? Just out of curiosity.”

“I need freedom. In everything,” she explained, partly referencing the way her dad was constantly trying to stifle her spirit. “I’d go crazy having to write what someone else told me to. It might end up paying more than a career in creative writing, but I wouldn’t be very happy.”

Bucky nodded, contemplating the revelation. “Sounds like you know yourself pretty well. Good for you. At your age, I was aimless.”

Dove shrugged awkwardly. She thought she knew herself, but did she really? She was _eighteen_ for god’s sake. Sometimes she felt like she was changing day by day. Even though she constantly _tried_ to come off as someone that exuded confidence and always knew exactly what she wanted, she was well aware of her inexperience in many aspects of life.

“Well, we’ll see. No one can predict the future,” she said hurriedly, slightly overwhelmed with the vulnerability she showed to Bucky, trying to conceal a bit of her confidence under the guise of indifference.

When he smirked back at her, as if he saw right through her flighty response, she darkened her expression even more. Wearing almost a glare.

There was something chilling about the way the distance between them would hit suddenly and without warning. Like she was feeding Bucky more and more slack, then yanking it away without a second thought. Her steely gaze always returned even when he started to think they were getting somewhere.

Feeling the sting of her shift, he sucked his cheeks in and pressed his tongue against his teeth, wanting to snap back. But what would he even say? Maybe try to make some halfhearted joke at her expense? Or backtrack his support about her goals?

It was like she intentionally coaxed that vulnerability out of him, just so she could leave him hanging.

Once the family finished dinner, Dove took off like a shot. She sprinted out the front door and jumped into her bike, taking off down the street. With the summer solstice just around the corner, the days were long. It was well into the evening and the sun was just starting to fall to the horizon.

Legs peddling fast, running on air. She whipped past the cars slowly rolling through the neighborhood. Knowing each and every driver she passed by name. Mrs. Jones that lived next door, Martin the grocer, Bianca her old classmate. Every face had a name to her. No one was ever new.

When Dove got to the Maximoff house, she walked right in like always. Never needing to knock with how often she was over. It was practically a second home to her.

Jogging up the flight of stairs, she pushed open the second door to the right, finding Wanda laying a record onto the platter and setting the arm down. A few crackles were followed by the music starting up. “Perfect timing.” She smiled over her shoulder.

A shrill of guitar rang out as Dove plopped down onto the edge of Wanda’s bed. “Shit, I needed this. Today sucked and I feel like I can’t even relax in my own house anymore with my houseguest around,” she grumbled.

Wanda snickered as she dug through her dresser, grabbing hold of her stash and moving to sit down at the head of her mattress.

“I mean really, this morning it was _just_ us at home. Everyone was at work. And then at dinner, he kept trying to talk to me. It was weird.” Dove shook her head, running her fingers through her hair, tugging on the knots that filled it. “Maybe I _should_ work this summer… it’d give me a reason to leave the house.”

“Maybe.” Wanda shrugged, eyes focused down as she pulled a joint from her metal case and roasted the tip with a lighter. She took it between her lips, dragging the flame through until it was cherried. “Why is he staying with you guys again?” A puff of smoke bursting form her lips as she spoke.

“His mom is gone for the summer with his sister or something. I don’t really know. He’s a grown man now, you’d think he’d be fine to stay at his own house.”

Wanda passed the joint to Dove, watching her take a drag into her lungs and cough slightly on the exhale. “Yeah, isn’t it like super fancy too?”

Dove nodded. “It’s insane. I’m pretty sure it’s the original house of Roseworth, which is so wild, but I guess it makes sense, since his family practically founded the town. Like I swear, they own half of everything around here.”

Wanda snorted a laugh, shaking her head. “Definitely a trip.”

“But it’s just so weird having Bucky around again,” Dove admitted, brain still caught on his presence. It was like she was choking on the fact. Like when something is lodged in her throat and she can’t get it out. Coughing profusely, but it won’t budge.

“Shit, why? You’ve known him forever.”

“You know we were never close though. He and Steve were always off doing things growing up and we never really had a moment to actually… talk, I guess. They were always doing sports or boy scouts or whatever.” She shook her head, passing the joint back to Wanda. “You know he was always kind of a dick to me when we were younger.”

Wanda hummed in agreement as she took a puff. “But that was when you were kids,” she countered, voice strained from holding in her hit, “maybe now that you’re older, it’ll be better.”

“I don’t know, dude. He’s just…” her voice trailed off, not even knowing how to put what she felt into words and the pot wasn’t helping. “Hell, I don’t even know,” she laughed, taking the joint back and inhaling the herby smoke.

“A Casanova?” Wanda smarted. She fell to her side, resting her head on her hand as she gazed up at her friend. “Remember when you had that huge crush on him freshman year?”

Dove’s jaw dropped, brows pinching so closely it formed a wrinkle between them. “I did _not_.”

“Yes you _totally_ did. You were buggin’ out when he went to prom with that girl Julia.” Wanda giggled at the memory of Dove’s face turning beet red when she heard the news.

“I didn’t care, nor did I have a crush on him,” she argued defensively, “and even if I did, he was a senior at the time. He never would’ve asked out a _freshman_.” Dove knew he was and would forever be out of her league. He was older than her by three years and although to the average adult it might not seem like much, in her eyes that felt like an impossible age gap. With how quickly life moved at their age, even a year of age difference felt like a goddamn lifetime.

“Whatever you say, Dovey,” Wanda breezed, falling back to her mattress and taking a drag from the joint. Letting her eyes creak shut as she let out a small puff of smoke and handed it blindly back to Dove.

She took it between her fingers, eyeing the roach for a minute before figuring she was done. She set it down to the small ceramic ashtray on the other side of the bed and laid down beside Wanda.

The two of them stayed just like that for what felt like forever. Listening to records and occasionally giggling about something stupid they thought of. Both of their eyes red and heavy. Feeling like there was a low buzz coursing through every muscle in their bodies. Like they were melting into the cushy mattress together.

It really was the best way to celebrate their graduation.

The evening luminesce slowly started to change angles as the sun lowered in the sky. Orange light beamed in, catching on the stale smoke that was settled in the room.

“Are your parents home?” Dove asked, realizing just how much the room probably smelt.

“Are they ever?”

“Good point.” Dove tilted her head. “We should probably still open a window though.”

Wanda hummed in agreement, standing from her bed to follow the advice. With the panes of glass propped open, the lukewarm breeze started to roll in. The sound of crickets chirping outside were barely audible over the music, but every time there was a lull in the tune, their soft singing was there to fill the silence.

“I registered for classes earlier,” Wanda said, eyes glued to the ceiling as she spoke.

Dove frowned in shock, side-eyeing her as she felt her stomach drop. “You did?”

“Yep. NYU here I come.”

“Jealous,” Dove said, feeling a harsh pang of sadness in her heart. Not only over the fact that she’d be losing her best friend to distance, but that she wasn’t going anywhere at all in comparison. “My dad is still so set on me going to the community college, but I know it’s just so he can keep his claws in me for a few more years.” She rolled her eyes at the thought of it.

It had been such a point of contention for them her entire high school career. She had applied to a few different colleges all over the country in the hopes it would get her out of Roseworth and was actually accepted to a few, but she had missed the response cut off. NYU was her school of choice and she was even accepted, but just like all the others— she missed out.

“I don’t get why you’re letting him tell you what to do. It’s _your_ life.”

“He gets intense about things.” Dove shrugged, not wanting to delve into the many blow out fights she’d had with her father over the subject. “I just feel like he’d never forgive me if I up and left.”

“You know he would eventually. He can’t keep you here forever. You’re bigger than this town anyway, Dove. You need to go see and experience things for yourself.”

“Believe me, I know. I refuse to settle here, but if I need to stay for just a bit longer to keep the peace in my family then so be it.”

Wanda furrowed her brows, twisting in her seat to face Dove. “They let Steve go off to school hundreds of miles away though? That seems so backwards to me.”

“Yeah, but I’m the baby. And I’m a girl. And I’m… _me_. They don’t trust me to be unsupervised,” she laughed. “Also, my dad thinks football is life, so the fact that Steve got a full ride scholarship to be the starting quarterback made it easier for him to let go.” She sat in thought for a moment, realizing how unfair the whole thing was once she said it out loud. “I’ll just move away once I finish school here.”

Wanda nodded. She understood the Rogers family dynamic was different than hers and she shouldn’t speak on things she didn’t fully grasp, but she couldn’t help the feeling that Dove was stifling herself. “You could always come visit me ya know. Whenever you want.”

Dove scoffed. “We’ll both be busy with schoolwork, Wands.”

“Not all the time,” she argued, “I mean we’ll both have to study and stuff, but there’s always the weekends or even spring break.”

“Yeah maybe.” Dove shrugged, feeling somehow more bitter about Wanda leaving after the offer to visit.

Wanda tilted her head, giving her a frustrated look. “Come on, Dove. Cheer up. It’s just a few more years of you being here and then you’ll be right there in the city with me.”

“I know, I know,” Dove said, brushing her off. “You’re right. It’s not that long.” Forcing a smile, hoping the two of them could drop the subject. Feeling like she’d start crying the longer they spoke about it. Not only feeling jealous, but the thought of losing her best friend to distance was almost too much to bare.

The only glimmer of hope she had to hold on to was that she would be following right behind Wanda. The more she thought about it, the more she convinced herself that four years was much too long to wait.

She needed out as soon as possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot to unpack in this one. How are we feeling? Thoughts on Bucky and Dove's relationship? Or Wanda leaving for school?
> 
> Also, there's going to be a lot of misunderstanding and shitty communication for a bit, but just trust the process because there's reasons behind everything!


	3. Acquiescence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh I was so excited to post today! This is definitely a very pivotal chapter and also highlights how much of a goddamn mess Dove is.

It was one of those mornings when the overwhelming summer heat hit from the moment the sun crept up over the horizon, instantly leaving the sidewalks scorching as soon as the town came to life.

The local convenience store was just opening its doors by the time Dove and her friends arrived. Eight o’clock on the dot. Ready to stock up on snacks for their long day at the river. It had been their group tradition since middle school— spending the entire first Saturday of the summer swimming in the sun until they were burnt pink and thoroughly exhausted.

Dove pushed open the door, making the brass bell chime as she stepped inside to start her perusing of the thin aisles of junk food. Her sneakers squeaked over the linoleum flooring, her tanned legs— always somehow smattered in random bruises— rooting out from her jean shorts that were covered in rips and grass stains from many summers spent wearing them for adventurous days like this. Looking effortlessly scrappy as always.

The owner, Wes, stood behind the front counter with a cigarette between his lips, craning his neck to keep an eye on the teens, trying to make sure they weren’t pocketing a candy bar or two on their way around the shop. The rusty fan behind him was oscillating back and forth, doing very little to dry the sweat that was already beading on his brow.

Dove saw him scrutinizing the group and gave him a soft wave, easing his concerns somewhat once he recognized her. She opened the huge drink refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of water for herself, then found a bag of pretzels and some Whoppers in the snack aisles. Clutching them all in her hands as she rounded the aisle to find her friends crowded together.

“Can I borrow some change, Mj?” Peter asked, furrowing his brows nervously as he awaited her response.

“You already own me a fortune.”

“I know, I know, but I forgot to eat before we left and I really want these chips,” he pleaded to her, holding up the crinkling bag in his hand.

Dove giggled at the exchange. “I can cover you, Peter,” she said, juggling her things in her hands, then digging into her pocket for some spare change.

Wanda side-eyed her. “Careful with that offer. He’ll suck you dry.”

“Will not,” he argued, “I’m working at the diner this summer, so I can pay you back soon, okay?”

“Pete, it’s _fifty cents_. Don’t worry about it,” Dove said, extending it out to him and dropping the couple of quarters into his palm with a soft scruff of metal. Being her much too giving self, she never minded covering for her friends in need.

“Thanks, Dove.” He smiled, practically skipping over to the checkout counter with his snack.

Once they all checked out and filled their backpacks with their goods, they hopped onto their bikes and took off through the streets of Roseworth. The town was bustling with traffic— er, what _they_ considered traffic. That being six cars lined up at the city center intersection rather than the usual two. It seemed that everyone was up early to make the most of the sun before it got too hot, as it always did in the afternoon.

The river wasn’t too far out, roughly twenty minutes on a bike. At the edge of town, just behind the park that surrounded the old elementary school. They rode through the treelined path and over a small wooden bridge. Once they got deeper into the forest, they got off their bikes and rolled them as they trekked through the dirt walkway to their favorite spot, passing by a few other groups of people that had the same idea they did— to swim away the warmth.

The dense forestry opened up to a secluded area on the water. Rocks and logs formed the perfect semicircle for them to sit around and there was a rope swing on a tree that hung over the river that they had tied up themselves their sophomore year.

After they all stripped down to their swimsuits, they instantly waded into the water. Shivering slightly at the freezing temperature, in a stark contrast to their overheated bodies from biking all the way from town in the sun.

Dove was the first to dunk her head under the water, shooting right back up to the surface and gasping at how frigid it was. Her friends then followed suit and came right back up the same way.

They all lounged for a few hours, just floating and sunbathing, none of them uttering much to the others. They all leaned back in the river and listened to the gentle splashing of the water hitting the nearby rocks and the birds chirping in the trees overhead. Letting themselves wake up with the day.

The sound of someone stepping out of the water made them allpeek over to their things, watching Mj dig through her bag for a moment before spinning back around holding a few beers in her hands. “Who wants one?” she asked.

“No way!” Peter gawked, rushing to the shore and taking one from her.

Dove and Wanda gave each other a shocked look. They waded back up and each took a can, cracking them open. “Where’d you get these?”

“My parents,” Mj explained. “They don’t really drink, so they’ve been sitting in our fridge for a while. I doubt they’ll even notice they’re gone.”

“Sick.” Dove nodded, taking a chug. It felt a bit too early to be drinking and the beer was slightly warm, which wasn’t exactly ideal, but getting alcohol at their age wasn’t easy, so she pushed through. The only time she drank was at parties if there was a keg or if someone’s parents had a liquor cabinet they idiotically left unlocked— which happened more often than one would think.

They all set up their spots on the rocks and the log, ripping open the colorful packaging of their snacks and digging in. Chasing down their mouthfuls of junk food with the lukewarm beer. Peter happily munched on his chips, giving Dove a thankful grin as he chewed.

“Did you tell Mj and Peter about your houseguest, Dovey?” Wanda asked.

Dove rolled her eyes at the reminder. She had been hoping she could go a day without thinking of _him_ , happy to have left before he was up and avoiding him until later. “Uh, no. Not yet.”

Mj cocked her head, popping a Jujube into her mouth. “Someone staying with you guys?”

“Yeah. Steve got home a couple days ago and brought Bucky to stay with us for the summer,” Dove replied reluctantly.

“Woah, you have _Bucky Barnes_ staying at your place? That’s so cool,” Peter cheerfully said with widened eyes. “I really like him, he’s so nice.”

Dove pouted down at her beer. Once again reminded that everyone liked Bucky, except for her. She understood why Peter reacted that way. Bucky was the typical ‘cool guy’ in high school. Although he could be a bit arrogant, he was fairly polite to most people. All of that she could admit, but it didn’t change the fact that he rubbed her the wrong way and made her life a living hell whenever he was around growing up.

“Doesn’t he live at the end of your street?” Mj asked, pinching her brows in thought, being observant as ever.

“Yeah. Apparently he can come and go as he pleases, but his mom is out of town for the summer and my parents just didn’t want him to have to worry about groceries or anything. It’s really generous of them and I guess it makes sense, but I’m not happy about it. He’s always been such a douche to me.”

Peter shook his head. “I don’t believe it. He’s so—”

“Nice?” Dove finished his sentence for him, raising her brows. “I get it, you’re part of his fan club. Just like all of fucking Roseworth is.”

“Shut up,” he laughed. “I’m not part of anything, but one time when I was a freshman and I was getting picked on, he stood up for me. It was just cool to have a senior help me out, ya know?”

“I’ve heard the story before, Peter,” Dove mumbled. “I know he’s a decent human being, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’ve vowed to hate him for the rest of my life.”

Wanda stood from her spot laughing, chucking down her empty beer can, and walking straight for the water. “Well, you’re in for a _fun_ summer then.”

The rest of them waded back into the water, floating on their backs and letting the slow ripples rock them. Dove couldn’t be happier about her surroundings. With her friends by her side, the beer in her belly, and the cool water in contrast to the intense heat overhead— she was downright euphoric.

The harsh sting of frigid water being splashed over her face ripped her from her soothing lull. She sat up, treading water as she saw Peter rise back up to the surface from jumping off the rope swing, jerking his head and flicking water from his hair. She hadn’t even realized he climbed up there with how relaxed she was from floating.

Following suit, Dove scurried up to the shore and grabbed hold of the tough rope, gripping it tight in her hands and jumping off the mound of dirt. Wrapping her legs around it while it swung her forward, then letting go just as she hovered over the water. She plunged deep into the river, soaking all of her friends in the process.

When she came back to the surface, Mj was already yelling at her for getting water in her beer. Dove laughed, apologizing before swimming back to the shore and plopping down on the log beside her backpack. She dug through and found her Whoppers unopened. They had started to melt a bit, but she reached into the box anyways, taking a few that were stuck together into her mouth and licking her fingertips clean of the chocolate.

The rest of the day was spent just like that. All of them swimming, jumping off the rope swing into the water, snacking, and downing a couple more beers. Hours and hours passed and they all felt truly spent. Their energy faltering off with the last remaining bits of sunlight. Their skin pink with warmth and their muscles tired from swimming.

It was the perfect way to kick off their summer. But also was probably the last one they would all spend together, with everyone but Dove leaving for school in the fall. Besides Wanda going to NYU, Peter was headed to MIT and Mj to Harvard— _fucking geniuses_ , that couple. The realization was sorta bittersweet. Perhaps a little more bitter than they cared to admit to themselves, so not a word was uttered about it being the last, but they all knew.

After they packed their things up, slipped their clothing back over their swimsuits, and strapped their backpacks on, they started their trek back out the forested area, rolling their bikes along their sides.

When they all got to the bridge, they hopped on their bikes and picked up their pace getting back home. The streets were pretty empty with the day coming to an end, but the sun continued its harsh reign over the sky, leaving heat mirages to ripple on the road.

As the group reached the center of town, by the movie theater and grocery store, they parted ways. Promising to call the others tomorrow, so they could make more plans for the week.

Dove rode her bike as fast as she could, despite the ache in her legs from spending her day swimming, trying to escape the heat. A truck rolled up behind her, honking for her to get out of the way, so she swerved up onto the sidewalk.

She maneuvered the clumps of grass that had grown through the gaps of concrete in front of the diner. Going a smidge slower as the terrain was less reliable that the street. Just as she went to pull back onto the road, her front wheel got caught on an uneven lip in the sidewalk, sending her flying forward off her bike onto the hot blacktop.

Dove hissed in pain as she rolled over to her butt, crushing her backpack under her weight. “ _Shit_ ,” she spat, leaning forward to find both of her knees bloody. She tucked a piece of her windblown hair behind her ear and looked her palms over, seeing that tiny black pebbles were embedded into the scraped skin. “Goddamnit.”

She looked around to make sure no one saw her embarrassing fall. Feeling a bit better when she realized there weren’t many pedestrians around. She figured most people were back inside their homes, trying to avoid the unbearable afternoon heat— which she felt creeping up from the concrete under her, through her denim shorts that were still slightly damp from her swimsuit underneath.

As Dove attempted to stand from her spot, she felt a sharp pain shoot through her from her left ankle, making her wince and put her weight on her opposite leg. Grabbing hold of the handy parking meter standing just beside her.

Thinking on the spot, she lugged her bike onto the sidewalk, leaving it lying on its side and then hobbling over to the diner. When she got inside, she hopped on one foot over to the payphone sitting against the wall just inside the door.

After she popped a couple coins into the slot, she dialed her house number. Tucking the phone between her ear and shoulder, she leaned up against the wall to steady herself. She stared out at the dining room of the establishment, impatiently waiting for an answer.

A familiar waitress named Vi, called to her from the other side of the counter asking if she was okay. Dove waved her hand, brushing off her concerns, mouthing that she was fine. Vi gave her a laugh, shaking her head at Dove’s chaotic ways, then walking back to the kitchen.

Just as she went to hang up the phone, the call was answered. “Rogers residence.”

Dove knew who it was instantly, pinching the bridge of her nose and sighing to herself. “Hey, uh, Bucky?”

“Yes?” he replied, sounding unsure of who was on the other line.

“It’s Dove. Can you give the phone to my mom?”

“She and your father left this morning.”

_Fuck_. She forgot it was Saturday. They probably left for the beach right after she left for the river. “Right… um, is Steve home?”

“He’s working right now, it’s just me here,” Bucky explained. Dove scrunched her eyes shut, banging the back of her head into the wall a few times in frustration, feeling so pathetic for even needing his help. “You okay?” he asked, puzzled by her lack of response and the sound of thumping.

“Yeah, no, I’m…” she shook her head, sighing to herself, “I crashed my bike and hurt my ankle in the process.” She paused, expecting a laugh, but was met with silence so she continued. “I don’t think I can get home on my own. Is there any way you could pick me up? If not I can just wait for Steve to get off work—”

“Where are you?” he cut her off with urgency ringing in his raspy voice.

Dove was startled by his tone, frowning to herself. “I’m at the diner.”

“Stay where you are. I’ll be there in five.” He hung up before she could respond.

When she set the phone back in its spot, she still wore that same confused frown. She genuinely thought he would’ve laughed at her and told her to wait until Steve got off work or to figure something else out. The fact that he not only took her wellbeing seriously, but was rushing over was a shock.

Shaking off her uncertainty, Dove hopped on one foot back outside to her bike. Plopping down beside it with a thud. She winced when her legs bent, unintentionally stretching the cut skin on her knees, forcing more blood from the wound.

She sat on the asphalt for a bit, baking under the sun while she picked the stray pieces of rock from her palms. Hissing in pain every time she had to dig into her skin and flicking the bloodied pieces from her fingers.

Before she knew it, the shiny BMW was swerving up to the curb in front of her. Bucky hopped out and strode over to where she was sitting. “You okay?” he asked, blue eyes raking over her injuries from his height.

Dove gazed up at him in embarrassment, hating the current dynamic between them. She hated asking for help or admitting defeat in general, but the fact that it was Bucky Barnes on the receiving end made it that much worse. “I’m fine, I just need a lift home,” she muttered.

“Your knees are bleeding,” he observed.

“Yeah, no _shit_.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed at her response. He could literally feel the condemnatory rebuttal burning the tip of his tongue. Standing still while he seriously considered hopping back in his car and leaving her where she sat. But the longer he looked at her, the more his harsh, reactive thoughts faded away. “Do you want the help or not?”

Dove clenched her jaw, looking back down to her lap. “I want help,” she admitted.

“Great,” he sighed, squatting down beside her. “Do you have any bandaids on you or anything?”

She nodded, slipping her backpack off herself. “Yeah, I actually have a little first aid kit somewhere in here that my mom gave me.”

Bucky took the bag from her, unzipping it and reaching inside. His hand shot back out instantly as he cringed, looking inside and finding some sort of sticky brown substance in the bottom. “What the f—” he started, stopping short when he saw an opened box of Whoppers, crushed and covered in what he realized was melted chocolate.

His eyes flicked up to meet Dove’s, raising his chocolate covered fingers to her and wiggling them in front of her face with a scolding expression. She laughed when she realized what had happened. “Sorry.”

Bucky shook his head in annoyance, as he licked his fingers clean. Looking into one of the side compartments of the bag, he found a small white box with a red plus sign on it. “ _Here_ we go,” he muttered to himself.

He started tending to the cuts on Dove’s knees. Wiping her skin clean of blood and then wrapping a bit of gauze over the wounds. The whole time his eyes were trained on what he was doing, she was staring at _him_.

She was fascinated by the way he seemed so intent on taking care of her and was being so gentle. Bucky’s hands were huge, his ring-donning fingers wrapping almost all the way around her calf as he held her steady, while the other swiped off some stray blood. His thick brows were pinched together in concentration. His lips formed into a pout, seeming to deepen the dimple of his chin while he worked.

Dove wanted to thank him, but the words just wouldn’t come out. She felt like she was suffocated by his presence alone. She wasn’t sure why his actions were so hypnotizing, but they were. “Where’d you learn to do this?” she asked. Although it wasn’t the grateful remark she was trying to produce, she hoped it would break the tension she felt.

“Boy Scouts,” he said simply, like it should’ve been obvious to her.

“Right.” She felt dumb for even asking. It was something she should’ve remembered about him, considering it was what kept him and Steve gone so often as kids— along with sports. The two of them were always running off with their troop to camping trips or day hikes.

Bucky smiled as he placed the last piece of medical tape, pleased with his work. After he tucked her first aid kit back into her backpack, he stood to his feet, extending a hand to help her up. “Let’s get you home.”

Dove shook her head to his offer. Instead resting her hand on the concrete to push herself up. When she got to her feet, she started to stumble back as the pain from her ankle was too much to bare the weight, but Bucky caught her by the wrist, tugging her to him. As her body slammed into his, he wrapped his arm around her waist to keep her upright. He subtly rolled his eyes at her stubborn attempts at independence, trying to keep her pinned to him with one arm, while the other held her backpack.

The closeness felt foreign to them. With Dove pressed so tight to Bucky's side, she could feel just how strong he was. He couldn’t be considered particularly ripped or anything, but he was definitely more built than she thought he would be under all those clean cut clothes he wore.

She hated that those were things she noticed. And she had even more that she felt warmth rush to her cheeks.

Bucky guided her to the car, as she hobbled by his side. He opened the passenger side door for her and helped her in, then slammed it shut beside her. She buckled herself in as he grabbed her bike off the sidewalk and shoved it into the back, before slipping into the driver’s seat.

His car smelt brand new, mixed with whatever cologne the guy wore. The same one that she smelt when her mom took their picture at her graduation and she was nudged against him. The same she often smelt wafting down the hallway after he took a shower or when he was stepping into a room.

And _of course_ it smelt so fucking good. Because why wouldn’t it? It was Bucky Barnes’ cologne. The guy was just short of perfect, so his scent would be too.

“All buckled up?” he asked as he shoved the keys into the ignition and twisted them. Pulling her from simmering over something as small as how good he smelt.

“Yeah,” Dove replied weakly, resting her head against the window.

He pulled away from the curb, eyes set on the road as he did a sharp u-turn to head back to the house. “So, do you want to tell me how you crashed?”

Although Dove was staring out the window, she could tell he was smirking. She could literally hear it in his voice. Feeling like he was mocking her, she sucked her teeth. “My front wheel hit a lip in the sidewalk,” she stated defeatedly.

He hummed to himself, before chuckling softly. “Are you sure it had nothing to do with the fact that you’ve been drinking?”

She discreetly peeked over to him out of the corner of her eye, finding him already looking back at her with a curl in his lips. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, feigning innocence. She didn’t really need to lie, knowing Bucky probably wouldn’t say a word to her parents, but she wasn’t positive about that inkling of trust just yet.

“Don’t lie to me,” he said cooly, staring back at the road as he turned off of Main Street, “you’re no good at it. I could smell it on you from the moment I picked you up, Dove.”

“Are you gonna tell my parents?”

Bucky hummed, biting his bottom lip then swiping his tongue over it. “Just because I’m your big brother’s friend doesn’t mean I’m not cool about things. I don’t have a stick up my ass like Steve does.”

She nodded, letting out the breath she didn’t mean to be holding. Letting a soft laugh follow the puff of an exhale. “Yeah, that’s Stevie alright.”

The rest of the drive was silent. Dove rested her head back on the window, watching the houses fly past them as they drove down their street. Beams of orange light shot through the spaces between the trees, blinding her every few seconds. The exhaustion she felt allowed her to space out. Unblinking as she stared blankly at the neighborhood she knew so well.

When they pulled up to the house, Bucky jumped out of his seat and rushed around his car to open her door. With a helping hand, he brought her to her feet— or to her _foot_. She hopped alongside him up to the porch as he kept that same tight grip to her waist. As much as she wanted to protest the help, at that point she was too tired to try fighting anything we was willing to offer, so she acquiesced to the assistance.

Bucky got her inside and helped her to the couch in the living room. He told her to stay put and he strode over to the kitchen for the phone. Flicking through the address book on the counter to find the beach house’s information that Sarah had left them in case of an emergency, he dialed the number and held the phone to his ear while he waited for an answer.

After a brief conversation with Sarah, he walked back into the living room looking calmer than before. Dove looked up from where she was reclined on the couch, resting her head on the arm of it.

“Okay, I just talked to your mom,” he started, “and she gave me a few things to ask you about. First, did your ankle pop or anything when you twisted it?”

Dove shook her head.

“Good,” he sighed in relief, glad he wouldn’t have to take her to the hospital. He looked at her hesitantly. “Um, may I?” he asked, pointing down at her ankle.

“Prod away, Doc.”

Bucky grunted in lieu of a laugh. He flicked on the lamp on the side table and then sat down on the floor by the end of the couch where her feet were resting. He carefully took her calf in his hand, shifting her leg to look her ankle over. He took note that it wasn’t misshapen. Looking for the things Sarah had mentioned to him over the phone. “Does it feel numb or tingly?”

“I wish, it hurts like a bitch.”

He smiled at her response. Being reminded yet again of how she was no longer the innocent little girl he once knew. “That’s actually a good sign, Dove. Means it’s not broken,” he explained. “Okay, I’m gonna… how you put it— _prod_. So, just tell me where it hurts okay?”

Dove braced herself, craning her neck slightly to watch him gently press his thumb against her ankle bone. “How does that feel?” he asked, looking up at her with wide eyes.

“Normal, I guess.”

Bucky nodded, sliding his thumb further over to the soft part of her ankle then pressing softly once more. She let out an involuntary whimper at his touch, feeling a sharp pain where his finger was. His breath hitched and his movements stilled at the sound bursting from her lips, eyes slowly raking up her body to meet hers once more.

He figured her mind was a bit too naive— or just preoccupied with thoughts of her injury— to realize what the soft mewl sounded like, so he didn’t utter a word of his slightly dirty thoughts. He instead simply cleared his throat and hummed to himself, trying to seem as casual as he could. “Well, I don’t think it’s broken. Probably just a sprain. Ya know you’re lucky your mom is a nurse, so she knew about all of this stuff. She said to do the… _shit_ , what was it,” he drew off, looking off to the side in thought.

“RICE method?” Dove guessed.

“Yeah, that’s it.” Bucky smiled.

She giggled, knowing her mom all too well. “Rest, ice, compression—”

“Elevation,” he finished her sentence for her, hopping up from his spot on the floor and grabbing a throw pillow from one of the nearby chairs, then gently tucking it under her calf.

Dove let a genuine smile slip out. She liked having her mind read. She liked even more that their minds were working in parallel at the moment. It was the first time she had really let her guard down around Bucky since he showed up and she couldn’t deny how natural it felt. It was like they were friends almost.

Bucky’s thoughts were moving to a similar place as hers were. Although, his were a smidge more unsavory. His liked that they were having a civil exchange for once, _yes_ , but he also liked the way her shorts were barely an inch or two long and the way her cropped t-shirt had ridden up underneath her back on the couch to reveal more of her figure. He liked how sun kissed the skin on her tummy was and how rosy her cheeks were. He liked how she looked lying flat and gazing up at him with her big eyes.

Feeling his heart beating fast in his chest, he pulled himself from his short-lived reverie. Reminding himself of who she was. She was Steve’s sister. He be a dead man by morning if he even _considered_ making a move on the girl.

“I’m gonna go grab something cold for your ankle,” he said, trying to find a reason to step away from her for a minute to compose himself.

Bucky walked into the kitchen, then dug through the freezer before finding some frozen peas for her. He wrapped a hand towel around them and waltzed back into the living room. He sat down on the edge of the couch and readjusted the pillow under her leg, sliding it up to sandwich the cold bag between it and her ankle.

“Bucky?” Dove’s voice made his head snap up, finding her wearing a soft expression. She swallowed hard. “Th— thank you… for taking care of me and picking me up.”

He could tell it was hard for her to be nice to him, so he didn’t dare send a jab her way no matter how badly he wanted to. He didn’t want to ruin the moment. “No worries, Little Wing.” He settled for a half-joke instead, unable to help himself.

She laughed though her nose, rolling her eyes. “Think you could grab me some pain meds? This shit is killing me.”

Bucky shook his head. “Not with the alcohol in your system. It’s not good to mix those things.”

“Dude. I only drank three beers today and that was hours ago.” She scoffed. “I’m talking _aspirin_ or something, nothing strong.”

“Absolutely not,” he said with a stern voice, “don’t ask again because the answer is no. It’s terrible for your liver to mix those things.”

Dove groaned, dropping her head back to stare at the ceiling. “I’m in _pain_ ,” she whined. “God, you’re more like Steve than I thought,” she grumbled under her breath.

Bucky’s head jolted back, slightly offended by her statement and more than anything, being compared to her brother. That was the absolute last thing he wanted Dove to see him as. _An older brother?_ he shuddered at the thought. Without a word, he got up and left the room.

She watched him disappear through the doorway of the living room. The silence that followed his departure made guilt settle into her chest. Unsure of why she even cared that she was rude, she twisted her face. She had said far worse things to him without batting an eye. Maybe it was the fact that he was taking care of her that softened her harsh opinion. She wasn’t sure, but her frown deepened realizing she probably wouldn’t see him for the rest of the night.

Thing was, her worries were cut short when Bucky walked back in holding his hands behind his back and wearing that distinct arrogant expression of his. Dove’s head tilted in apprehension, unsure of what he had up his sleeve—or behind his back.

“Now, you have to promise me you won’t tell anyone about this okay? Not even Steve,” Bucky said with his brows raised in warning.

Her expression quirked, eyeing him carefully before slowly nodding.

Pleased with her response, even if it was halfhearted and inaudible, he brought his hands back in front of him. He was holding a glass bottle of amber liquid in one hand and a can of soda in the other. “Your parents said I was welcome to delve into their liquor cabinet while I’m staying here, so I doubt they’ll think twice about this bottle being a bit more empty than before.” He sat down on the edge of the couch as he spoke, with his lower back slightly pressed against her thigh where she was still lying flat, staring up at him in shock.

“You’re gonna _let_ me drink?” she asked in disbelief, feeling like this was some kind of fucked up trick on his part.

“Pretty rad, huh?” Bucky teased, ripping the cork from the bottle with a deep thunk, then holding it between his thighs as he cracked open the can for her. She scooted up a smidge, before his large hand landed on her waist to gently push her back down. “I’ll help you in a second, honey. Hold your horses.”

Dove bit her lip at the word ‘honey’ being uttered from his lips, referring to _her_ of all people. Also, finding that she kinda liked the way he was so attentive to her. It made her feel cared for, which was something she rarely gave in to with anyone. And even more, she kinda liked the way his hand felt on her skin. How the expanse of it covered most of her belly, making her feel small. How warm and strong his palm was.

Bucky set both of the containers down as he stood from his seat, then nodded for her to slide up on the couch. She twisted in her spot so he was able to rest her ankle on the coffee table. The whole time he kept a hand under the pillow and frozen peas to hold them to her.

He sat back down beside her once she was settled, now able to spread out a bit with her sitting upright. “Do you like whiskey?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “I usually go for clear liquors, so I don’t think I’ve ever tried it.”

Bucky hummed in response, reaching over to grab the bottle and can. “Well, it’s what we’re having because _I_ like it.”

Dove rolled her eyes, remembering who she was talking to again. His entitled rich kid was showing. She didn’t say a word though, knowing she was lucky to have him treating her like this. Even if it was mild corruption.

“Here,” he said, handing her the bottle.

She took it from him, bringing it to her lips with both hands and tilting it back. The burn of the liquor instantly scalded the inside of her throat, but she took it down. Swallowing hard and cringing at the taste. He laughed, quickly handing her the can of soda to wash it down. She took a huge gulp of the sugary fizz, trying to rid herself of the harsh burn.

“Not a fan?” Bucky asked, eyeing her scrunched expression.

“No, it’s uh… it’s great.” She shuddered.

He smirked at her response, lifting it to his own lips with one hand, and taking a long pull. He let out a refreshed “ _ahh”_ as if he has just finished drinking the world’s coldest glass of spring water, teasing her.

“That shit tastes like _gasoline._ ”

“Drink gasoline often?” he smarted, taking another chug of the whiskey before passing it back to her. Trading her for the can of soda, so she could use both hands to lift the heavy bottle.

Dove let out a humorless laugh. “Funny,” she said coldly, before bringing the bottle back to her lips and pulling an identical reaction to the first time, doing grabby hands to the can that Bucky held. He passed it back to her and she desperately drank it down, chasing relief.

“Alright, you’re done.” He huffed, taking the whiskey back from her, keeping it in his hand as he reclined in his spot.

She let out a breath between pursed lips, resting her head back on the couch. She felt the burning in her belly spread through her body in a blissful way and the pain in her ankle started to subside. Replacing it with sheer relaxation. “Thanks for that,” she said, gesturing to the bottle.

“It’s no big deal. Just don’t say anything, okay? I don’t want your parents thinking I’m corrupting you. This was a one time thing, under adult supervision.” He was trying to impress her with that. Trying to show her that he was on her side and would turn a blind eye to certain things. And was least of all like a _brother._ Trying to get as far from that term as possible.

Dove laughed at his choice of words. “I’m technically an adult too. I’ll be nineteen next month.”

As if Bucky needed a reminder. Every time he felt gross for checking her out, that twinkle of permission crept its way into his mind. She was grown up. Old enough to vote and move out and— he cut his thoughts short, taking a pull of whiskey and chugging down a few gulps. Hoping to drown out his desire for the girl.

“Where were you today?” he asked, wiping his lips with the back of his hand, trying to distract himself.

“The river,” she said breezily as she stared out the window beside the couch. Watching the shadows get longer as the sky became a soft purple rather than the fiery orange it had been on her way home.

He hummed, allowing himself to peek over at her figure. “ _This_ makes sense then.” His words made her turn to look at him as gestured to her, referencing the major lack of clothing and messy hair. Not that either of those things were particularly uncharacteristic for her, but it was a clearly a more intensified version of her usual look.

Dove wasn’t quite sure what to say, so she just nodded. Suddenly feeling awkward at the realization that he actually took note of her appearance. She looked down to her outfit, instantly realizing just how exposed she was in her cropped shirt and cut off shorts. Unsure if it was the liquor in her belly or the man sitting next to her, she felt overheated at the thought of his eyes on her skin.

“Did this help at all?” Bucky asked, nodding to the bottle in his hand.

As if it hit her all at once, she giggled a bit too hard. The freckled bridge of her nose scrunching as she nodded. “Yes, I think I feel a lot better.”

His brow arched. Lips curling as he licked them. He liked to see her like that. Giggling at something he said, rather than the usual eye roll he received most times they were together. Even if the joy was induced by the alcohol in her, it was nice to see the way light danced around her eyes.

“Can I have some more?” she asked, pointing at the bottle.

“You’re cut off,” he said with raised brows, daring her to challenge him as he set it down by his feet.

“Dude come on. I had like two sips,” Dove argued. “And I’m in _so_ much pain,” she said, faking a pout, suddenly feeling playful.

“I think you’ll live.”

She dropped the facade and shifted in her seat, accepting his response. The silence suddenly became thick between them. The tension palpable. The fact that this was probably the first time they had ever spent more than five minutes alone together became plainly obvious to both of them. As if they had the same thought at the same time.

It was odd, how they both had that same realization. Both of them realizing that all the anger and the frustration she and him had felt about being in each other’s presence as children— it seemed to disappear like it was never there to begin with. Like they could actually coexist. Obviously aided by Dove’s need for Bucky’s help, but it made them realize that they’d be there for each other.

And that was a terrifying thought to both of them.

Wanting to fill the empty air, Bucky hopped up from his seat and turned on the tv. Glad to see that M*A*S*H was on CBS, he sat back down in his spot beside her. Dove was thankful there was something to fill the awkward halt in conversation— even if it was basically wartime propaganda— and let herself relax in her spot.

The two of them sat there for a while longer, not saying a word. Bucky’s mind was reeling, trying to think of something to say about the show, but kept coming up short. Just as he was about to crack a joke about one of the characters, the sound of the front door being pushed open made him stop short.

Steve came walking in looking completely spent. His blonde hair was mussed, and his t-shirt and jeans were both covered in grease, with a few smudges over his cheeks as well. He froze where he stood when he saw that Dove and Bucky were sitting together… and weren’t fighting… and were both… _alive?_ After the initial shock wore off, his eyes instantly went to the way his sister’s leg was propped up with a towel over her ankle.

“What’s going on?” Steve asked, rushing into the living room.

“She sprained her ankle while she was riding home from the river, so I went and picked her up,” Bucky explained, earning himself a startled and slightly wary expression from Steve.

“So, you’ve just been… hanging out together?” he asked, eyeing both of them suspiciously.

“Well, I had to take care of her,” Bucky replied bitterly before looking over at Dove, “we’ve been playing doctor, isn’t that right, _Little Wing?_ ” Adding on a taunting smile, trying to go back to his discourteous ways.

Bucky wasn’t sure why he felt the need to cover his tracks and pretend like he wasn’t enjoying his time with her, but he did. It wasn’t like he was doing anything wrong. _Right?_ He was just taking care of his friend’s little sister. It was totally innocent.

Ignoring the fact that he let her drink and had been subtly checking her out the entire time, it was harmless. He was just ‘playing doctor’, like he said.

Dove frowned at his sudden change in tone. Pissed that he was behaving so differently than he was just a minute before. “Uh, yeah,” she said, answering his question, then looking up at Steve. “We’re just keeping my ankle elevated and leaving ice on it.”

“Good.” Steve nodded. “Did you take anything yet? I can dig through mom’s medicine cabinet if you need.”

“She’s fine,” Bucky answered before she could, subtly moving his leg in front of the bottle that was resting by his feet.

Dove hurriedly explained, hoping to cover the rushed tone in Bucky’s response, “I already took something.”

“Okay, cool. Well, I’m gonna go shower really quick and I’ll be back down.”

The second Steve left the room, Bucky was like a spring that had been released. He shot up from his seat and rushed to the kitchen, tucking the bottle of whiskey back in the liquor cabinet and locking it up. As he walked back to the living room, he picked up one of the mints that Sarah always kept resting in a ceramic bowl on the kitchen counter.

He quickly unwrapped it and shoved it into Dove’s mouth, that was hanging open slightly while she watched the tv, as he sat down beside her. She sputtered, caught off guard by the intrusion between her lips. She started to spit it out before she realized what Bucky was doing— he was trying to cover her ass, so she wouldn’t get in trouble with Steve. She looked over at Bucky and he sent her a wink, turning back to face the tv.

A while later, Steve returned in his pajamas. Squeaky clean and smelling like generic bar soap. His golden hair was stringy wet, dangling over his forehead as he walked into the living room and plopped down in one of the chairs beside the couch.

“Well, how was the river? Besides the crash of course,” Steve joked, smiling at Dove.

“It was good. Just the usual gang— Wanda, Mj, and Peter.”

“How is Wanda doing? I didn’t really have a chance to talk to her at your graduation.”

“The same I guess.” Dove shrugged. “Oh _actually_ , she registered for classes at NYU. That’s something new.”

Steve nodded slowly. Impressed with her choice of school. It was so rare to hear of anyone going to a school that wasn’t the local community college or the state schools. He was caught off guard for a moment, before remembering who they were talking about. Wanda was a free spirit much like Dove was, but the thing was, her parents actually approved of her dreams. “Good for her. New York sounds exciting.”

Dove nodded, trying to force a smile, which was plainly obvious to Steve.

“You’re gonna miss her, huh?” he asked.

“You have no idea,” she muttered.

“Well hey, I’m sure she’ll be home for the holidays.”

Dove shrugged. “I’m also feeling sort of bummed out that I’m not going with her. Like, she and I had always planned on moving to New York together. Ever since we were young.”

“Going to RCC will be good for you, Dovey. It’ll be so nice living at home while dealing with school work. You’ll have mom and dad by your side, helping you the whole way.”

Disgust marred her face at the thought. His words of encouragement had the opposite effect of what he was going for. Putting her off rather than making her feel better. As if she made up her mind in a single second, perhaps aided by the trace amounts of alcohol in her belly, without a second thought she blurted out, “I’m not going to the community college.”

Both Bucky and Steve’s heads whipped around to look at her in surprise. “Wait, what?” Steve asked, half-laughing, thinking it was a joke.

“I’m not going,” she repeated sounding almost panicked. Her eyes flicked over the floor as she softly shook her head, thinking it over to herself. “I can’t.”

Steve looked over at Bucky in confusion, being met with an equally as confused shrug, then looking back to Dove. “I’m sorry, did you bump your head in the crash or something?”

Dove crossed her arms across her chest, glaring at Steve. “I’m being serious, Steve.”

“What exactly _is_ your plan then?”

She sighed, thinking to herself. “Don’t know. I haven’t even thought about it much, but I can’t go to that fucking school. I didn’t even want to go to college in the first place. The only reason I pushed was so I could go somewhere out of state and leave. The community college was dad’s choice, not mine. And if I go, that means I’ll be trapped here for longer.”

“Does he know about this… sudden decision?” Steve questioned, looking her over like he’d be able to see there was something wrong with her. Like whatever caused her lapse in judgement would be visible.

She shook her head, staring at her lap, lost in thought. “I didn’t even know about it until now, so no,” she chuckled, then looked up at her brother. “So, keep your mouth shut until I figure it out, you fuckin’ narc.”

Bucky laughed at that, looking down at her. “What are you gonna do instead?”

“I want to write,” she replied, glancing up at him, “maybe I could just get a job here and work to save up money and eventually publish something.”

“ _Sure_ , Dovey,” Steve laughed, mocking her slightly.

She frowned, feeling embarrassed. When she looked back up to Bucky, he wore a displeased expression that she figured was judgement of her flighty and somewhat irresponsible plan.

What Dove didn’t know though, was that Bucky wasn’t upset with her, but was disappointed with Steve’s careless reaction to her goals. Bucky always knew Dove was different from a young age. Always standing out from the relatively basic standard of the household. It was odd though— the sudden desire to support her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gimme all your thoughts! How are we feeling about this tenderness? And Dove's impulsivity? And Bucky being a goddamn dreamboat?


	4. Messy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOF. So much pining and confusion in this bitch.

The last few days had been painful to say the least.

Since Dove’s parents had returned home Sunday night, her mom was trying to coddle her to an irritating extent. Not that Dove was too surprised by the reaction to her injury. Sarah was a natural caretaker and she made it no secret that she loved when her kids needed her help.

As boring as it was, spending days in bed allowed Dove to get a lot of writing done. She would journal frequently and had even written a couple short stories. A lot of the time— as much as she hated to admit it— she found inspiration from her confusing feelings about Bucky.

Finding herself caught on the phrase ‘ _I thought he didn’t like me’._ Not only inking it down on paper, but finding the sentiment repeating itself over and over again in her mind like a broken record.

She had thought over their evening together in her head dozens of times. Running over the looks and touches and statements that resonated with her. But it seemed like the more she thought, the more puzzled she felt.

Their interactions had been far and few between since then. Bucky was still staying over at the Rogers’ house, but he would always slip out before noon. Running off to whatever it was that he did with his time and was usually gone for the remainder of the day, returning late in the evening to make sure he could avoid Dove as much as possible.

He didn’t want to be so distant with her, especially since their time together had been such a big step in the right direction, but he wasn’t sure if he could trust himself. The more time he spent thinking it over, the more clear it was to him that he had some sort of attraction to the girl.

He had convinced himself that all he really wanted was just one night with her. Just one night— _one hour_ , even— if only to determine whether he wanted her for another night and then maybe one more after that. But what Bucky didn’t realize, was that wanting to test desire is nothing more than a ruse to get what one wants without having to admit just how bad they _really_ want it. And he did. _He really fucking wanted it._

The thing was, whenever he actually saw Dove over those few days, he reacted like she was a hot iron. Instantly recoiling in on himself at the mere sight of her and seemed almost scared to get too close. Every time they had seen each other in passing, he wore the same harsh expression. The self directed upset came off as something bordering on impatience and unspoken rage, leaving Dove feeling completely shut out by him.

Early one morning, she had bumped into him in the hallway upstairs during one of her uncomfortable hobbles over to the bathroom. He watched her struggle to walk, unsure if he should help her or not. Trying to stifle the part of himself that found her disheveled appearance endearing. He liked how thin her pajama shirt was and how her hair was messily strung about her features. Maybe a bit too much. He was only able to mutter a barely audible “hi.”

Dove had said nothing back to him, barely sparing him a glance, but she felt his eyes bleeding into her back as she continued her embarrassing limp down the hall.

All that to say, being on bed rest for days with only her contradictory thoughts to keep her company, she was desperate to get out. Practically diving out of bed the second her parents were gone for work. It was the first day there was no pain when she stood to her feet, so she knew she was ready to get back to enjoying her summer.

She took a long shower. Shampooing her hair and even shaving her legs for the first time since she was injured. It was something that had been much too hard to do with only one working leg and bandaged knees up until then.

Once she was all clean and had rewrapped her knees in smaller bandaids, she got dressed for the day and as always— left her hair unbrushed to dry on its own. As she stormed down the stairs and rounded the corner, she nearly slammed into someone’s chest. When she stepped back and tilted her head to look up, she found Bucky standing in nothing but a pair of shorts.

Dove’s eyes widened at the sight of him. Looking his built chest over, a golden chain resting just over the few tiny stray hairs in the valley of his pecks. His muscles were shaped in a way that was practically forcing her eyes further down his body. She blinked at how his chiseled abs formed into a perfectly cut v just above his dangerously low-hanging shorts.

She hadn’t seen him shirtless in years. Possibly since middle school when his body was still boyish. Either way, what stood before her was a shock. And a good one at that. He wasn’t that same little punk she once knew. He was a man.

As much as Bucky tried to force himself to continue that same distant exterior, seeing Dove ogling at his body made it break in an instant. “Like what you see?” he asked with a grin, unable to help himself.

Her brows shot together, face snapping into a glare in an instant as she looked back up to meet his eyes. “ _No_.”

Bucky chuckled. “Sure you don’t,” he smarted, sounding completely unconvinced by her response. He was positively elated by her reaction. He knew he looked good and her expression was fucking priceless to him.

Dove clenched her jaw. “So what, you’re just— just walking around the house shirtless now? D-did you forget you don’t actually live here? You can’t just—” she sighed, collecting herself, “you should put a shirt on.”

“I was going to go read outside for a bit before I go run some errands and I just figured I could catch some rays,” he explained with a shrug before finally registering her appearance. He hadn’t seen her that put together in days. She had clearly showered and was back in one of her adorably skimpy outfits.

Trailing down, he took note of how she was putting her full weight on both feet. “You seem all better now… care to join me?” He couldn’t stop himself before the offer came out. _God he was weak._

“I already have plans,” she said, purposely being cryptic in her response. It was a lie, plain and simple. She had no idea what she was headed to do. All she knew was that she wanted to leave the house.

Bucky hummed in response, partially relieved she had refused the offer. “Where are you headed?” he asked, calling her bluff.

Her eyes narrowed. “Why the hell would I tell _you_?”

Despite the anger set off by her biting response, his attention was caught on the fact that she’d be going out again. He thought to himself for a moment, seemingly apprehensive. “Are you taking your bike?”

“What else would I take?” Dove responded harshly.

“ _Jesus_ _I don’t know_ , I was just asking,” he shouted, throwing his hands into the air, exasperated with her incessant attitude. He huffed out a breath, turning to walk to the back door. Just as he was about to turn the corner, he glanced back over his shoulder to watch Dove lacing her shoes. “Just… just be careful okay? I’ll be here for a bit, so call me if you need anything.” His words were still slightly bitter, but he looked like a kicked puppy.

Although he just wanted her to be safe, he still felt stupid for even caring.

Dove froze just as she was about to loop her shoelace around the other, glancing over to him in confusion. “I will, thanks.”

_I thought he didn’t like me._

With her shoes strapped to her feet, she grabbed her bike from the front steps of her house and took off down the street. She rode through the neighborhood sorta aimlessly. Enjoying the feeling of sun on her skin more than anything. She ended up just taking the long way to the Maximoff’s, like she honestly figured she would. No matter what her intentions were she always found her way to their place.

Dropping her bike down to the grass of their front lawn, she skipped up to the front door, shoving it open without a second thought like always. She followed the sounds she heard in the kitchen to find Wanda eating in the small breakfast nook with a box of cereal and a carton of milk beside her on the table.

The bright morning sun was beaming in from the windows behind her, making her long red hair look like strings of shimmery copper. She was in her pajamas, yawning between bites and looking over the comics section of the newspaper sitting opened next to her.

Without a word, Dove grabbed a bowl and spoon for herself and plopped down across from Wanda. Pouring herself a mountain of cereal and sending a waterfall of milk over top.

“Morning,” Wanda said through a mouthful of cereal.

“Morning.”

Wanda put two and two together as they sat eating in silence for a moment. “I’m guessing your ankle is better,” she said, pointing at her with her spoon.

“ _Much_ better,” Dove responded, letting the silence settle for a moment before speaking. “So, I um, I did something.”

“And what is that?” Wanda asked sleepily, still staring at her bowl.

“I withdrew from RCC. I called yesterday and took care of it.”

Wanda’s eyes widened, instantly shaking her from her daze. “I’m sorry, _what_? Where are you gonna go then?”

“Nowhere. You know the only reason I wanted to go to college was to get out of Roseworth and if I’m stuck here anyways, why put myself through it? I’ve been thinking it over and I figured I could just work and save up money to publish a book.”

“Seriously?” Wanda beamed back at her from across the table.

Dove smiled, nodding her head. “Yeah, I mean there’s the whole breaking it to my dad thing, but he can’t hate me forever right?”

Wanda hummed in agreement as she mixed up the contents of her bowl. “Exactly. It’s better to do something and ask for forgiveness, rather than ask for permission. But whatever you need, I’m always here to help,” she said, feeling prouder than ever of Dove’s ballsy decision.

“Thanks, Wands.” Dove smiled. It was rare for her to feel supported by her family, so hearing someone tell her she wasn’t facing something alone was a godsend. “It’s probably going to be a rough conversation, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.” She waved her hand, brushing off her worries.

Pietro walked into the kitchen, punctuating their conversation. He did a sleepy double take when he saw the girls at the table, giving them a silent nod with his messy platinum bedhead. He shuffled his feet, headed straight to the coffee pot on the counter. “What are you two doing today?” he grumbled over his shoulder.

“What _do_ you want to do today?” Wanda repeated, looking back at Dove.

Dove snorted, replying with the question that always rang painfully true to her: “what _is_ there to do around here?” It was something most locals would ask themselves, laughing it off and then proceeding to settle for some mundane activity, like it was no big deal. But not Dove. It sucked never having anything to do in her hometown. There was the theater, the bowling alley, the diner, and the bar—which they couldn’t even get into yet. Besides that, there was quite literally nothing.

“We could go see a movie,” Wanda suggested unenthusiastically. It was their go-to activity, so neither of them were surprised when they ended up on their bikes making that same ride they had a hundred times before.

When they approached the ticket counter, they were quickly brushed off and pushed inside for free thanks to the fact that Dove knew the owners well, having worked there every summer since she was fifteen up until this year.

They stocked up on candy, popcorn, and soda, then made their way into the theater.

There was nothing quite like hiding away from the summer heat in a dark, air-conditioned room, staring at a big screen while stuffing your face with junk food. Albeit it wasn’t the most exciting activity, Dove was just happy to be out of the house.

Being that they were literally the only people in the theater, they talked through most of the movie. Feeling like they were on the couch, rather than out in public. Wanda scooted over a few seats and they shifted to face each other, taking turns tossing pieces of popcorn into the other’s mouth and trying to catch them. “So will you tell me now what happened with Bucky?”

Dove’s eyes lit up, forgetting she hadn’t told her the details yet. When Wanda had called the day after she hurt her ankle, she kept the conversation vague, since Steve was just behind her in the kitchen. Simply stating that Bucky had picked her up and helped her out. “Dude, it was so weird. We were like… _nice_ to each other. Like we were just hanging out on the couch and we drank a little and I don’t know…” her voice drew off.

“Woah, woah, woah. Rewind.” Wanda held up a hand, confused. “So you crashed your bike and then what happened?”

“I called him from the diner and he rushed straight there, which was weird in and of itself. Like he was so willing to help me, ya know? Like he actually cared that I was okay,” Dove said, eyes lost in thought.

Wanda nodded slowly, processing the information.

“He bandaged up my knees outside the diner,” Dove recalled, pointing to the bandages that were still on them, replaced a few times since, “then he drove me home, and he laid me on the couch and took care of me. It was so odd seeing him like that.”

“I guess that is kinda… out of character,” Wanda agreed halfheartedly. She thought that was just what everyone would do, but then reminded herself that Bucky had always been a bit self-absorbed, especially around Dove. She figured he would’ve just driven her home and left her to fend for herself, so the fact that he actually cared for her was a bit of a shock to say the least.

“He’s probably just grown up.” Dove shrugged, trying to not think too much more about it like she had been for the last few days. “I mean he’s in his twenties now. He’s probably just over being my childhood antagonist.”

“Yeah, probably,” Wanda laughed, staring at the screen for a bit while she chewed on a piece of licorice. “Wait, you said you had a drink with him?” She remembered suddenly from when Dove first started babbling about her experience.

Dove took a sip of her soda as she nodded. “I asked for some medicine because my ankle hurt so bad, but he could smell the beer on my breath and didn’t want me mixing substances or something—“

“So he got you drunk instead?” Wanda interrupted in disbelief.

“Well, not _drunk,_ but he let me take a few pulls from a bottle of whiskey.”

“Gross. I fucking hate whiskey.”

Dove laughed. “I now know I do too. It was disgusting, but it did help with the pain,” she explained, “it was funny actually, I was giving him shit for being too uptight like Steve and then when he stormed out I thought I pissed him off, but then he came back with a bottle in his hand.”

Wanda saw a twinkle of something in Dove’s eye that she couldn’t quite place. It almost looked like fondness? Or maybe even attraction? Wanting to test her friend, she nodded, casually resting her head back on her seat as she let out a provoking, “like a cool older brother, almost.”

Dove’s eyes shot wide at that. “He is _not_ like my brother.”

Wanda beamed at the urgent deflection of her response, laughing to herself that she took the bait— unintentionally revealing herself, whether she realized it or not. “Why, ‘cause you wanna fuck him?” she pushed.

“Shut up, Wands,” Dove giggled, flicking a piece of popcorn at her face. “I don’t want to fuck him.”

They sat in silence for the rest of the movie, actually paying attention like they should’ve been since the beginning— or at least Wanda was. Dove’s mind continued to reel over the joke that was sent her way about being into Bucky. She thought they were simply on track to being friends, but perhaps it really was more.

Once the film was over, they gathered up all their trash and picked up the stray pieces of popcorn from the floor. It was something that Dove made sure to do anytime she left, knowing firsthand how shitty it was to sweep up after people at the theater.

As they walked back out to their bikes, into the scorching heat of the day, a familiar voice came from down the sidewalk. “Is that Dove I see?”

She spun around finding her ex— she wasn’t even sure what to call him— Kyle, sauntering towards her. Wearing his arrogant smile, taking long strides with his lanky legs. His curly black hair bouncing with each step, kissing his high cheekbones. A couple of his friends trailing behind him as they were just about to walk into the theater.

“What’s going on, man?” she greeted right back, keeping a cool exterior.

“Party at my place tonight, babe. You coming or what?” He tilted his head as he stopped just before them.

“Didn’t hear about it until now,” she said, speaking in a playful tone as she looked up at him through her lashes, “seems like it’ll be pretty lame if words not spreading yet.”

Kyle’s eyes narrowed, lips curling down at her. “It’s a little last minute, but I didn’t know I’d have the house to myself until this morning. I think the folks did that on purpose, so I couldn’t throw a rager, but hey— I’m pretty resourceful,” he chuckled, “I’m even getting a keg.”

“Sounds rad. My friend allowed to come too?” Dove asked, nodding to Wanda who had been standing silent as she listened to their exchange.

“If it means you’ll be there, babe, you can bring anyone you want,” Kyle flirted.

Dove had to fight back an eye roll as she smiled up at him, making a mental note to invite Mj and Peter once she got home. “We’ll see you later then.”

Kyle sent her a wink before continuing on into the theater, feeling satisfied with the affirmation from her. The second he and his friends were inside, out of earshot, Wanda spun her head around to look at Dove with a concerned expression. “Jesus, how old is that guy now?”

“I think he’s twenty,” Dove guessed, looking down to the side as she did the math, “he was the year under Steve, so that sounds right.”

“Are we actually going to the party?”

Dove nodded. “ _Fuck_ yeah. There hasn’t been a party this summer yet and I’m dying to do something fun.” The novelty of house parties had worn off for her a bit throughout high school, but Kyle was in college and that meant two things: older boys and lots of alcohol.

“I’m surprised he invited you,” Wanda said with a smile growing over her face. “Maybe he’s trying to get you back.”

“Shut up.” Dove rolled her eyes. “We had a _fling_ last year, but I doubt he’s hung up on it. Also, it’s not like we were even officially together, it was just a couple months of hanging out. He’s probably just trying to get a better turn out for his party by inviting us.”

“He took your v-card, dude. Of course he’s hung up on you.”

“We actually never had sex,” Dove argued, straddling her bike and pulling out into the road as Wanda followed suit, heading back to their neighborhood.

“But you did… _things_ though right?”

“Yeah, we did _things_ , but I didn’t have sex with him. He wasn’t worth giving that up. No guy ever has been to been to me.”

Wanda nodded. “You’re one of the smart ones, Dovey.”

“Not smart, just picky,” Dove laughed.

Dove and Wanda were tucked in the upstairs bathroom doing their makeup for the night. Steve had knocked on the door a handful of times over the last half an hour, yelling at them to hurry up because he wanted to shower, and yet, they were still taking their sweet time, completely unfazed by his stressing.

“How much time do we have until Peter and Mj get here?” Dove asked, leaning over the sink to draw on the eyeliner that she so rarely wore. Usually donning a bare face most days. Her tongue was pressed to the corner of her mouth in focus, trying to keep a steady hand.

“We have plenty of time, dude,” Wanda said with tightened lips, swiping on another brush of gloss.

“Okay good, because I still have to change,” Dove said as she tucked the last of her makeup into the drawer under the bathroom counter.

“What’s wrong with what you’re wearing?”

Dove looked down at her outfit as she grabbed the doorknob of the bathroom, before looking back up at Wanda. “You’re kidding right? I gotta look hot if we’re going to a party.” She nodded over her shoulder for Wanda to follow her out.

They turned to walk to her bedroom, finding Steve sitting in the hallway up against his door with his arms folded over his chest, looking thoroughly pissed off. He was still in his grime-covered work clothes with a fresh towel folded over his lap. “You girls finally finished?”

“Uh, yeah,” Dove laughed, “you been sitting out here the whole time?”

“Yes, I have. I really need to shower, I’m filthy,” he snapped, gesturing to himself.

Dove snickered as she kicked open her bedroom door. “Sorry about it.”

“No you’re not,” he mumbled under his breath as he stood from his seat.

Instantly rushing to her closet, Dove started picking through her clothes. Landing on an orange top with flowing sleeves, held together by a thin tie at the center of her breasts and a pair of brown pants to cover the bandages on her knees. She slipped them on, pairing them with some chunky platform heels to give herself some height.

After adding a bit of jewelry, she peeked over at Wanda to find her lowering the magazine she was looking at and beaming back at her with widened eyes. “So you’re going for hot-hot, huh?”

“Maybe.” Dove smirked. Her eyes raked over to the clock beside her bed, seeing that they had about five minutes until their friends would show up. “Let’s go wait downstairs.”

When they got to the bottom of the stairs, they found Sarah and Joseph sitting on the couch watching tv in the front living room. “Where are you two headed?” he asked, eyeing them suspiciously as he took a drag of his cigarette.

“A party,” Dove replied simply.

“Hey, that sounds like so much fun,” Sarah gushed. “Doesn’t it, dear?” she asked, trying butter him up for Dove’s sake as always.

Joseph ignored Sarah’s question and raised a brow, giving the two girls a skeptical look. “A party huh?”

“Uh, yep,” Dove said awkwardly. “It won’t be wild or anything… just a little get together.”

He grunted to himself, unconvinced by her response. Raising his brows in warning and using the cigarette pinched in his fingers to point, as his eyes flicked between them. “No drinking, no drugs, no sex.”

“Oh my god, _dad_.” Dove cringed, covering her face with her hands.

“We promise to be on our best behavior, Mr. Rogers,” Wanda reassured him wearing one of her comforting smiles.

“Alright,” he said, sounding that much more calm, but still not full convinced. He always had an odd amount of trust in Wanda. Little did he know, she single handedly provided most of the town with their weed thanks to one of her very well connected older cousins. And even in that moment— had a whole purse filled with dime bags and joints on her hip. “So, who’s driving tonight?”

“Peter. And he won’t be drinking tonight, I promise.”

“Okay, good. He’s a good kid.” Joseph nodded. “Well, you girls be safe and call if you need anything. We’re leaving for the beach in the morning, so don’t be too loud when you get home, Dove.”

“Yes, sir,” she said in a fake soldier voice, mockingly saluting him, then walking down the hall. “God, they’re both insane—” she whispered to Wanda before being cut off by the sound of a horn being honked from the front of the house. “Let’s go,” she squealed, walking to the front door.

They hopped into the back seats of Peter’s car, buckling themselves in as they took off. The drive was fairly short— as were all drives in the town— just over to the neighborhood Peter and Mj both lived in, past the diner. They sped through the darkened roads, only illuminated by street lights and the neon signs of the few establishments at the center of town.

It seemed like all of Roseworth was fairly lively with it being Friday night. Teens were piled in cars, causing chaos out of the sheer boredom that living in a small town gave them. Smashing mailboxes or daring each other to steal beer from the convenience store or sneaking out to go smoke a joint at the nearby park. Doing anything they could to actually _feel_ something.

When Dove and her friends pulled up to the house, the front lawn was already covered in guests clutching red solo cups. Music was blasting from the inside, just loud enough that they could hear it out front. Cars were pulling up, dropping people off and then swerving away to find parking. Definitely not the ‘little get together’ Dove lied to her dad about.

Once the car was parked, they made their way up to the house, walking right inside and shoving through the thick crowd of sweaty bodies with Dove leading the way, waving to familiar faces. It was too loud to talk, so she silently gestured for her friends to follow. The house was absolute chaos. People sliding down the banister, knocking over what they assumed were priceless family heirlooms, spilling beer on the carpets. Typical house party.

They made their way to the kitchen, where the music was a bit quieter. Finding the keg that Kyle promised sitting dead center in the nook of counters. “ _Jackpot,_ ” Wanda said, clapping her hands.

After they all filled cups for themselves— except for Peter, Dove wasn’t lying about that— they wandered out into the living room to find an open spot to hang out. The space was dim, only lit by a single overhanging brass lamp and candles resting on just about every open surface. The music was still fairly loud, but the mood was much more relaxed compared to the rest of the party, so they all huddled up onto an open couch together, sipping on their drinks.

It didn’t take long for a few people to approach Wanda, buying a couple joints for their night. “Pleasure doing business,” she replied, tucking the wad of cash into her pocket, before turning to her friends. “You guys wanna get high?”

“Please,” Mj said in her usual monotone voice. Sounding perpetually ‘over it’, no matter what she was doing.

Wanda lit a joint between her lips, passing it across the group as they each took a few puffs and washed it down with their beers. Sure enough, a few of their friends that had graduated the year before joined in, trading them drags from the joint for sips of their bottle of vodka. All of them instantly felt the effects of the substances mixing together, becoming sillier the longer they kept the rotation going.

“I’m gonna go refill my beer,” Dove told the group, before scurrying off to the kitchen.

She clutched her red cup in her hand as she leaned down to fill it, the keg hissed as it sputtered out the cheap, foamy beer into her cup. When she spun back around, she saw Kyle leaned up against the fridge staring at her with a smug expression.

“Can I help you?” Dove asked, hooking her hand to her hip.

“Just enjoying the view,” he said, taking a puff of the cigarette between his fingers.

“Real cute,” she laughed, walking over to him. She leaned up against the counter beside him, resting her hand on the slightly sticky surface, not thinking twice about it with how intoxicated she was.

“Yeah… you are real cute,” Kyle said through lowered eyes, smiling down at her.

Dove rolled her eyes. Instantly regretting her decision to start a conversation with him. “So, where are your parents?” she asked, trying to turn the conversation back to a more casual tone.

“Florida.”

She hummed, bringing her cup to her lips as she stared out at the room of people. Watching as yet another person dropped their cup onto the carpet, spilling beer. “How are you gonna recover from all this shit?” she questioned, gesturing to the mess.

Kyle shrugged. “I’ll figure it out later, I have a week before they’re home. For now, I’m just gonna chill and enjoy the ride,” he said in a playful drawl.

“Right on,” Dove replied. “Hey, I uh, gotta get back to my friends, but I’ll catch you later.”

“Oh wait, is your redhead friend here? I wanna get another bag from her.”

“Yeah, she’s here,” Dove nodded, “come on.” She walked him back to the living room, finding her friends still sitting perched in their spots on the couch. Peter had Mj’s legs strewn over his lap, holding her hand, while Wanda was grabbing cash from some guy.

“Hey Wands,” Dove called over, catching her attention, “you got some more dime bags left?”

Wanda smiled, digging into her satchel and pulling out a small baggie filled with green nugs, waving it in the air for her to grab. Dove passed it over to Kyle and he pulled out a couple bills, tossing them over to Wanda.

“Thanks.”

“No prob, Bob,” she breezed, resting her head back on the couch as she took a sip of her beer.

Dove found her spot back on the couch beside her friends with Kyle squishing in beside her. She wanted to be rid of him, but it _was_ his house, so she didn’t say a word. Instead, just did her best to ignore the feeling of his arm draped over her shoulders.

Overall, the night was pretty fun. All of them enjoying conversation, making occasional trips to the kitchen to refill their cups, and smoking a bit more. It was around one in the morning when they felt like it was time to go. The party hit that point when people started to get sloppy and there was a girl crying in the corner— signaling their turn to head home.

Not realizing until she was actually up and walking outside, but Dove was pretty wasted. She was swaying slightly, trying to lean up against Wanda, but she was just as drunk as Dove was so there was no point. They dropped into the back seat of the car as Mj and Peter hopped into the front.

“Please don’t puke in my car. Aunt May will kill me _and_ you,” Peter warned, giving them a concerned look from the rearview mirror. “If you feel sick, we’ll just pull over.”

“We’re not _that_ drunk, Peter.” Dove rolled her eyes. “Just drive.”

He shook his head, unconvinced, as he drove down the street. The drive home seemed even faster than the way there. With Mj blasting music for them, and all of them belting out the lyrics to Led Zeppelin songs, they made it to Wanda’s in a flash. She hobbled out of the back seat and got to her front door before they pulled away.

“Bye bitch!” Dove lovingly yelled out the window. Blowing kisses as they sped off, earning herself a quick peace sign from Wanda before she stepped into her house.

It somehow became even more silent as they drove deeper into the neighborhood towards the Rogers’ house. Getting further and further away from town center, there was nothing but homes with everyone tucked into their beds, fast asleep.

When they rolled up to the big colonial style home, Dove double checked the seat to make sure she didn’t leave anything behind— knowing herself well enough to figure she’d leave something behind if she didn’t— then thanking Peter for the ride and wishing him and Mj a good night.

Dove stepped out onto the sidewalk, straining her eyes in the dark to watch where she was walking in her chunky heels. The only sounds in the air were the soft scuffing of her footfalls on the paved pathway and the crickets chirping.

She miraculously reached the porch without falling over. Unlocking the front door, she stepped inside to find her house silent. Almost too silent. Perhaps it was just because she had been in loud environments all night. Her ears were still ringing from the riotous party and noisy car ride.

Figuring she’d need a glass of water to help fight her hangover, she walked down the hall to the kitchen, being as quiet as she could. When she rounded the corner, she jumped when she saw Bucky leaning up against the counter eating an apple in the dark. His figure barely illuminated by the moonlight pouring in from the window beside him. “Shit, you scared me, dude.”

“Sorry,” he said cooly. He was wearing pajamas— a t-shirt and pants. His usually flawless hair was slightly mussed, which was an unusual sight to Dove. The guy was always the pinnacle of perfection, so seeing him like that made a smile creep over her features. “You have a fun night?” he asked with a smirk, liking how she was staring at him.

“Uh yeah, s’pretty cool,” Dove said, slurring her words slightly as she toddled over to find a glass for herself. When she reached up into the cabinet, Bucky could smell the mix of alcohol and smoke on her breath. _That_ , along with the lack of grace of her movements, it was clear that she was pretty out of it.

He nodded, taking a bite of his apple. He chewed as his eyes stayed locked on her, taking in her intoxication, but also how _fucking hot_ she looked. Her top was short and low-cut, so he had more than enough cleavage to stare at. Her curves were defined by the tight pants she wore that flared out around her ankles.

Feeling a pang of jealousy when he thought about who she had been around earlier in the night, dressed like that. Bucky knew it was dumb, but he couldn’t help it. Dove was a babe and he knew there must’ve been a plethora of guys fawning over her with how good she looked.

He watched her move to the sink. Unintentionally giving him a great view of her ass. He rolled his eyes to himself, getting frustrated that he couldn’t control his thoughts. He couldn’t help but imagine what she’d look like bent over for him. What she’d look like under all those clothes. If she was just as pretty everywhere else.

Knowing he couldn’t control his impulses for much longer, he decided to make conversation. “Your dad said you went to a party.”

“Mhm,” she hummed, eyes set on the faucet as she filled her glass and then chugged it down. When she went to spin back around her feet got caught on the small rug in front of the sink and she stumbled in her heels, catching herself on the counter, nearly spilling her water. “ _Shit_ ,” she spat with self-directed irritation.

Bucky crossed his arms, watching her struggle with an annoyed expression. Just like _her_ feelings though, it was self-directed. He desperately wanted to help her, but he knew if he did, those feelings from when she hurt her ankle would come back. He had done so well avoiding her up until then.

He flexed his hand by his side, desperately trying to keep to himself. Giving in, he let out a huff and set down his apple as he walked towards her. Internally cursing himself for submitting to his desires. “Hold onto my shoulder,” he commanded as he fell to one knee. She hesitated, confused by his order, but followed instructions and rested her hand on him as he lifted up one of her feet.

Bucky grabbed hold of the thin strap around her ankle and undid the latch, slipping the heel from her foot before moving to the next one, shrinking her down to her natural height. “You probably shouldn’t be wearing shoes like these yet. What if you rolled your ankle again? You could’ve actually broken it this time, Dove.”

“Don’t patronize me,” she spat, annoyed with his scolding.

He kicked her shoes to the side as he stood to his feet. Locking in on her eyes as he glared down at her with an irritation that was dangerously on the verge of becoming anger. “Leave it to _you_ to use big words when you’re smashed.”

Dove snickered, unfazed by the edge in his voice, taking another sip of her water. “Maybe you should stop treating me like a child then.”

“Maybe you should actually take care of yourself for once so I wouldn’t have to,” he snapped, narrowing his eyes.

The harsh nature of his comment caught her off guard, but egged her own anger on easily with the alcohol in her system. “Fuck off, Bucky. I don’t even know why you care.”

“I—“ he started with raised voice, then remembering there were people sleeping upstairs, taking a breath to calm down before trying again, “I don’t.”

“Seems like you _really_ do,” Dove retorted, setting down her glass to focus on the argument. “Why else would you take care of me when I hurt my ankle? Or this morning, when you told me to be careful on my bike? Or now, when you’re taking my shoes off for me?”

“Because you’re a _mess_ , Dove,” he spoke through his teeth, in a yelling whisper. Pissed at what she was insinuating, but also at how drunk she sounded as she spoke.

Her brows furrowed, knowing it was partially true, but it still stung. She had always been that way. Living her life with very minimal regard for the future, simply diving towards whatever impulse she felt in the moment. _Wasn’t everyone like that when they were young?_ she thought to herself.

Without a word, she spun on her heel to walk away, before she felt an oversized hand grab at her wrist halting her movements. “I’m sorry, Dove. I— I didn’t mean to snap like that.”

“I get it.” She shrugged, peeking up at him with a calmed exterior. “I shouldn’t be so ungrateful. I’m glad you’ve been here to help me lately and I know I can be a mess sometimes.”

Bucky softened at her words. Feeling a smile starting to tilt at his lips. He figured it was her blatant intoxication, but regardless, he liked that she was acknowledging that he took care of her. “You know…” he started taking a step closer to her, keeping his hold on her wrist, “as much of a mess you can be, I can’t deny I find you a little entertaining.”

Dove felt the air leave her lungs like she was kicked in the gut. His proximity was suffocating her. He looked so cozy in his pajamas. _Why did she suddenly want to nuzzle up in his arms?_ Her head was tilted back to meet his gaze from his towering height. Their chests were so close, if either of them had taken a deep breath, they surely would’ve made contact.

“W— what does that mean?” she asked, breathlessly.

“I’ve been left rather uninspired this summer. Our occasional interactions have been some of the few interesting things that’ve happened,” he admitted, lips curling.

Dove had no idea what to say. It was like someone unplugged her brain. She didn’t know what it was about the man that made her feel like that, but he just did. She simply nodded, not knowing how to form words.

Bucky chuckled, quirking a brow. “You really _are_ drunk, Dove.” His hand slid up the length of her arm, to her shoulder, and landed behind her neck, stroking his thumb over her jaw. He noticed how much lighter her hair had gotten from being out in the sun. Looking almost white now against her freckled, tanned skin in the dim light of the kitchen.

Her breath had hitched at the feeling of his hand on her skin. Every last muscle in her body tensed up at the contact, knowing if she relaxed for even a millisecond, she’d be like one of those little wooden toys whose gimp-legged body collapses as soon as the mainsprings are touched. But at the same time, she didn’t want the moment to end, so there she stood— rooted at the spot, gazing up at him.

The expression on Bucky's face matched hers, completely entranced by the closeness. His eyes flicked down to her lips for a moment in consideration, before looking back up to meet her stare again.

Without thinking twice about it, Dove stood on her toes. She leaned in to kiss him. Before their lips could meet, he pulled away with wide eyes, pushing her back with a strong hand. “ _Woah_. Slow down there, honey.”

Her face contorted into a frown, taken aback by the rejection. “But—” she shook her head, confused and slightly insulted, “you just looked like—”

“I wasn’t going to kiss you.” Bucky shrugged with a flippant expression, not thinking twice about how he hurt her feelings. “You’re too drunk and… _this_ can’t happen,” he said gesturing between them, “Steve would kill me with his bare hands.”

Dove instantly stepped away, finding her glass of water and drinking from it as her eyes stayed glued to the floor. Overwhelmed by shame and rejection. When she finally looked back up to Bucky, he was leaning back against the counter across from her, taking a bite of his apple with a juicy crunch.

She wanted to yell at him. To go off about how much of an ass he was for touching her like that, then rejecting her kiss, and then compartmentalizing to the point that he was able to just start eating his snack like nothing had just happened. But she realized that maybe it really was in her head. She was too drunk to trust herself.

The silence was deafening. It was like they could hear the other’s mind reeling. In the dim light, Dove could see the moonlight beaming in from the nearby window reflecting off Bucky’s slate blue eyes, making them looking artificially bright.

“I should go to bed,” she muttered, feeling embarrassed as she walked over to the sink and dumping down the water before turning to leave.

“Wait,” Bucky said, halting her movements, “you should just take the glass up with you. It’ll be good to wake up to some water.” He stepped over to the sink and filled it back up for her, placing it back in her hand.

Dove narrowed her eyes down at the glass, wanting to refuse the offer, but instead walking away without a word. She rushed to remove her makeup and changed into some pajamas before climbing into bed. The room was spinning as she lied flat to her mattress, so she kicked one of her legs out from under the covers and rested it on the floor— a trick she had learned over the years.

She stayed still for a bit, staring at the ceiling trying to calm herself. She let her thoughts race, thinking over the eventful evening, but she kept landing back on her weird interaction with Bucky. He had been giving her mixed signals since he got back to Roseworth the week before. One minute he was glaring at her and ignoring her and the next he was taking care of her. She’d be astounded if she didn’t have whiplash by the end of the summer.

The mantra from her journal rung in her mind again and again.

_I thought he didn’t like me._

Bucky was a walking contradiction and none of his actions ever seemed to amend that. Not tonight when he was yelling at her about being a mess or when he helped her out of her shoes and gave her water.

She thought about his fingers on her and the look in his eyes. Was she just drunk? Or was he actually staring at her like he wanted to kiss her? She felt butterflies fluttering around her stomach at the thought. Maybe it was just the heat of the moment? Or maybe it was something that had always been there?

It was in that exact moment that she realized the most terrifying thing— _she was into him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LORDY this snowy weather has made it so much nicer writing a story set in the summer. (MR. SUN, PLEASE COME FASTER) Hope you're all staying safe, wearing masks, and getting ready for those vaccines.
> 
> How are we feeling about this chapter? And Dove's perpetual chaos?
> 
> Also, do we like the longer chapters? (I hope it's making the weekly posting a bit more bearable)


	5. The Game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine’s Day! Posting this as a treat to my babes. Love you all♥️
> 
> More pining. More frustration. But also, a lot of communication between our two love birds (pun intended)
> 
> This chapter provides a lot of insight into Bucky’s thoughts and feelings. Is he communicating them? Eh, kinda. But he’s bad at being vulnerable.

Dove’s eyes squinted open and instantly scrunched back closed.

Sunlight was pouring into her room. She glanced over her shoulder and saw that she forgot to close her curtains before she went to bed. “ _Fucking idiot_ ,” she clipped, in self-directed fury. Pissed she drank so much the night before.

She groaned as she pulled her comforter over her head, rolling onto her side and letting out a sigh. Regret seeped into her bones. The kind one could only feel when waking up with a hangover, knowing there was no one to blame, but themselves.

Dehydration made her tongue go dry. Wishing more than anything that— her train of thought cut off, gasping in excitement when she remembered the glass of water she had left for herself the night before. She shot up, reaching for it, and chugging the whole thing down in one go. She was thankful for that, recalling that it was Bucky that told her to take it up.

_Bucky._

The kitchen.

She tried to fucking kiss him. That thought alone made her nauseous.

“God what is _wrong_ with you?” Dove whispered to herself, smacking her hands over her eyes.

She just wanted to hide in her bed all day. Not wanting to step foot out of her safe place or god forbid— run into _him_. But her growling stomach urged her to get up, so she flicked her covers off her head and looked over to her clock, seeing that it was already noon.

Scrambling to gather some semblance of dignity or motivation, she grabbed hold of what she could. She kicked her duvet off her legs, launching herself up from her bed in one rough movement. Dizziness hit her hard. She wobbled on her feet and bumped into her dresser to steady herself.

Still in her pajamas, she walked downstairs, keeping a vigilant eye out for her houseguest. Not that she knew what she would do if she _did_ see him. Maybe she’d just run the other direction?

_Yeah, that could work. Just avoid him for the next three months_ , she giggled to herself.

_Wait, am I still drunk?_

She became aware that she had been talking to herself and laughing at her own internal jokes. Brushing off her concerns, she continued her trek to the kitchen.

Relieved to find the room empty, she poured herself a colorful bowl of Trix cereal and found a spot at the dining room table. Enjoying the solace, she dug in, trying to fill her empty belly and hopefully cure her hangover.

Unfortunately, that fleeting bout of peace was cut short by Steve and Bucky walking in from the garage door, drenched in sweat. They had clearly just worked out together in the at-home gym their dad kept nicely stocked with state-of-the-art equipment, so Steve could stay conditioned for football year round.

Dove’s stomach dropped at the sight of Bucky, but she was glad Steve was there. With another body in the room, she felt like there was buffer of sorts to keep her safe from the teasing that she was sure to endure the second they were left alone. Bucky wouldn’t dare say a word in front of Steve, knowing they’d both be in deep shit if he did.

“You just gettin’ up, Dove?” Steve asked, frowning at her condition before glancing over at the clock. “It’s noon.”

“Yeah, no shit,” she said through a mouthful of cereal, “I had a late night.”

“Right, the party,” he laughed, “how was that? It was at that guy Kyle’s right?”

“Mhm,” she answered his second question, “it was fine. Just what you’d imagine— destruction of property, drugs and alcohol, violence, premarital sex, etcetera. All of your favorite things, Stevie.” Her words, mockingly sweet.

Bucky failed to stifle a laugh from across the room then chugged down the glass of water he had just filled at the sink. Dove’s eyes flicked to him briefly, then back to her bowl just as fast, feeling like if they made eye contact, she’d internally combust.

“I actually would’ve gone if I had known about it,” Steve argued.

“Really? Didn’t think house parties were your thing.”

“I’m a college student, what do you think I do every weekend?” he replied over his shoulder, headed to pour himself a cup of coffee. He lifted the pot to Dove, silently asking her if she wanted some, being met with an eager nod as she chewed.

“Well, maybe I’ll let you know next time I hear about one,” she said, after she finally swallowed her bite of her cereal, “as long as you’re not gonna try to babysit me the whole time you’re there.”

“Eh,” Steve shrugged, walking over to set down a mug of coffee for her, “I guess you’re an adult now. I can’t be too hung up on what you choose to do with your time.”

_Or… who she chooses to do_ , Bucky finished in his head. Catching himself, trying to brush off the glimmer of hope that Steve’s words spurred in his mind, he set his glass down in the sink and sputtered a rushed, “I’m gonna go shower,” as he jogged out of the room.

“Don’t take too long. I gotta rinse off before I go to work,” Steve called back. He plopped down in the seat beside Dove, taking a long sip of his coffee while she did the same. “So, what’s the plan for the day?”

“Probably just going to try and nurse this hangover,” Dove muttered.

Steve laughed into his mug, eyeing her over the ceramic that was pressed to his lips. “Well, I’ll be working pretty late, but I think Bucky will be here all day, since it’s the weekend.”

“What does _that_ mean?” she asked, her head jolting back in confusion. “That guy has _no_ real responsibilities, Stevie.”

Steve said nothing to counter her statement, but quirked his brows in a way that was hard to decipher. “Either way, he’ll be here. So if you need anything, just ask _him_ because I’ll be too busy at work to leave.”

Dove nodded softly, feeling like there was something unsaid, but was too hungover to focus on it. They sat in silence for a bit as Steve drank his coffee and she continued stirring her cereal mindlessly. She gazed down at the colorful puffs turning to mush in her bowl, feeling full all the sudden.

“How are things with you two?”

She instantly lifted her head feeling like she was caught, but realizing by his expression that the question was innocent. “Fine, I guess.”

“Any issues at all? I mean, judging by the afternoon he helped you with your ankle, I’d think the two of you are well on your way to being friends, huh?” he asked with a smile.

Dove swiped her clammy hand over her thigh under the table. She really hadn’t done anything wrong. They didn’t even actually kiss the night before, but she couldn’t help feeling like she was guilty of something. “Yeah I mean, he hasn’t done anything _majorly_ douche-y since he’s been here,” she laughed, using humor to hide her worries.

Part of her wanted to confide in her older brother and get some advice, but what would she even say?

_‘Hey I was wasted last night and I tried to kiss your best friend and now I think I’m into him’_? He would flip.

The sound of the upstairs shower being shut off made Steve hop up from his seat to take his turn, cutting Dove short before she could say anything dumb. Probably for the best. “I’m gonna go get ready for work,” he said as he set his mug on the counter, “but I’ll see you later tonight okay? Take a nap, drink some water, feel better.”

Dove nodded, turning back to her bowl of cereal and staring blankly at it, letting her mind drift.

She felt so dumb for her actions the night before. Maybe she owed Bucky an apology for being so forward? She couldn’t be sure if the signals he was sending her were real or just the product of her intoxication. Feeling overwhelmed, she stood from her seat with her bowl. Dropping it into the sink, then heading upstairs.

She settled onto her window seat, curling in on herself as she started to write. Sure enough, her thoughts about Bucky were turned into words. As if her brain was feeding signals directly into her hand, willing it to move in a way that filled the page with her feelings about the guy.

A soft knock at the door interrupted her therapeutic scribbling. She knew exactly who it was without having to think twice about it, since they were the only two at the house then.

Dove bit her lip, hoping if she just stayed silent he would go away, but she had never been a very lucky person, so she was hardly surprised when there was yet another knock. “Dove?” Bucky’s voice came through the door. When he was met with silence he tried again, “I know you’re in there. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

She sighed, running her hands through her hair. “I’m fine.”

He hesitated, unsure of what to say, but felt too dissatisfied with her response to leave her be. “Can I come in?” he pressed.

Dove contemplated for a second, then set her journal down and combed down her mussed hair with her fingertips. _Why was she doing that?_ Bucky had seen her in all of her most embarrassing forms before and she never gave it a second thought. “Come in,” she finally called over.

Bucky hesitantly pushed her door open, taking in her bedroom as it was revealed to him. He hadn’t seen the inside of it in years and it had changed quite a bit since they were young. Her walls were still that same plum color, but were covered in posters of musicians rather than the wholesome pictures of animals that were once there.

Her dresser was no longer covered in toys, but stacks of books and a record player. A crate of albums sitting just beside it, filled with a pretty impressive collection from what he could see. A few were strewn about the floor, over her shag rug. Jimi Hendrix, The Who, Alice Cooper, Black Sabbath, Janis Joplin.

She had a queen sized bed, covered in a messily crumpled floral print quilt, where her small twin bed used to be, extending out from the side wall. Then there she sat, in the cushioned window seat that was built into her room, filled with pillows and blankets— the same as when she was young.

“Uh hi,” Bucky said, standing awkwardly in her doorway.

“What’s going on?” Dove asked, despite knowing exactly why he was there.

“Can I sit?”

She nodded, scooting up in her seat to make room for him. He walked across her carpeted floor, now showered and dressed for the day. He smelt like soap, freshly applied cologne, and toothpaste. His hair was slightly wet still, slicked back on his head as a few stray strands fell over his forehead in naturally perfect curls.

Bucky sat down beside her on the cushioned seat, shifting to lean against the panel to face her. He wore a knowing look as he gazed at her waiting to break the silence. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I said, I’m fine.”

“I mean, are you hungover? You were pretty drunk last night.”

“A little,” Dove admitted, feeling her heart race at the mention of the night before, “but I’ve felt worse.”

Bucky nodded as a smile grew over his face and he looked down to his lap. “You uh, you remember last night at all?” His eyes slid up to meet hers. Something playful danced around in them, leaving her unsure of how to react. She couldn’t tell yet if it was mocking or support.

“Yes I remember,” she said, expressing nothing in her voice.

He chuckled, nodding again. “You remember trying to kiss me then?”

“Get the _fuck_ out of my room, dude,” she snapped, point to the door, “if you’re here to make fun of me, just leave me alone. I was drunk and confused and it didn’t mean anything—”

“ _Hey_ ,” Bucky said, frowning as he cut her off, “I’m not making fun of anything. I just wanted to clear the air and make sure you were okay. I don’t want things to be awkward with us.”

Dove instantly calmed down with his reassurance. Settling back into her spot as she sighed. “I-I’m sorry I did that. I just thought…”

“Yeah I _know_ what you thought,” he laughed.

She laughed with him in self-mockery. She liked when he read her mind, not that she was making it particularly hard to read the night before. “I’m still so embarrassed,” she said, covering her face with her hands as she felt her cheeks heat up at the memory.

“I mean, you weren’t wrong.”

Dove’s head popped back up, her smile falling from her face. “What?” she pushed out, mouth ajar.

“If I’m being honest, I _did_ want to kiss you,” he admitted, looking her straight in the eye, completely unashamed by his desire. He knew he at least owed her that much. To at least make her feel less alone.

As soon as she had stormed off to bed the night before, he collapsed against the counter, slamming his head against the cold tile, infuriated with himself. _Why the hell did he reject her?_ He’d been pining after the girl since he had arrived. He’d spent almost every night tossing and turning, trying— and ultimately failing— to ignore his urges. “But like I said last night, Steve would’ve killed me if anything had happened,” he added, as a reminder to himself, along with her.

Her brain was still caught on the first part of his statement, replaying it over and over again. ‘ _I did want to kiss you’._ She couldn’t deny the feeling in her belly anymore. What she assumed was intense hatred, she realized was intense infatuation. Perhaps with a sprinkle of hatred still lingering somewhere in there.

“ _Oh_ ,” was all she could muster out as she stared back at him.

Bucky gave her that boyish grin he so often wore, tipping his head at her reaction. “I’m sorry if that’s weird to say.”

“I mean, I have no room to judge. I actually _tried_ to kiss you,” she teased, snapping back to her sparkling ways to lighten the mood.

“True,” he agreed.

They sat there, processing the revelation for a moment, neither of them quite knowing where to go from there. Dove bit her lip, trying to hide the smile she felt sneaking up on her. Although Bucky was someone she had despised growing up, she was well aware that he was known as the town hottie for most of his life. The Casanova. The ladies man. She couldn’t deny it felt sorta good that she had caught his eye.

Not that Dove was much different from him—although, she would never think of herself that way. She was also quite the looker, always having boys chasing after her. She was a little less interested in romantic endeavors than most girls, sure, but she never had any lack of attention being showered over her. Thing was, she rarely found any of the guys worthy of _her_ attention.

Bucky’s eyes locked in on the smile she was trying so hard to fight back, quietly chuckling to himself and looking down to his lap. Doing a double take at the journal he saw sitting just beside her. The pages were disheveled in the binding, some were folded over, with a few strays sticking out where they had been ripped out then tucked back in. “What were you writing about?”

“Nothing that matters,” she said, in habit. Used to the way she was usually treated in her house— like a delusional dreamer that would never amount to anything.

“I doubt that’s true,” he argued softly, reaching down to pick it up.

Dove snatched it away from his grasp before his fingertips could even graze the small book, shoving it behind her back, against the pillow that rested behind her.

Bucky froze with his hand still extended, realizing she wasn’t just being bashful, she genuinely felt ashamed about her writing. He had never read any of her work, but he figured when someone was as passionate as she was about writing, they were sure to have some sort of talent in that prospect.

“You really don’t want to show me?” he asked with a concerned brow, reaching over to rest his hand on her bare knee.

The touch seemed fairly innocent, but Dove couldn’t stand it for another second. She shifted her leg so his hand fell off her, shaking her head. “No, most of it is just embarrassing rambling.”

The despair she laid on herself for reacting that way must’ve come off as some kind of irritation to him, but she couldn’t let him touch her like that. She had nearly swooned at the second of contact, knowing if his hand stayed put for a moment longer she would’ve gone limp in his grasp, much like how she felt the night before.

Why had she reacted that way? Because she was afraid of what might’ve happened? Or was she afraid she would have to face rejection again? Or was is because she was scared he would actually act on it?

Part of her preferred the confusing ping pong game they had going. Knowing that if either of them acted, they would actually have to face what they were both feeling— and what they now knew the other was feeling.

“Come on, just read me something then,” Bucky pressed casually.

“No.”

He sighed. “Okay, I’m sorry I asked. I’ll leave it alone,” he said, raising his hands in surrender as he stood from his seat to leave.

Dove sulked, kicking herself for shutting him out. Making a note to keep her responses vague around him. Knowing that if she couldn’t say ‘yes’, she should just say ‘maybe later’, simply to keep the game between them going.

She wondered if it would’ve been obvious to him. If he’d see right through her vague response like he always seemed able to do. Instantly recognizing that she didn’t mean no, but that she meant _‘please ask me again, then perhaps once more after that.’_ Like a game of ping pong.

Bucky reached her door, freezing when he realized he didn’t want to be without her company either. Well aware of that fact that it might’ve been a mistake, before he could think, he asked her “care to join me in the backyard? I was going to relax in the sun for a while.”

“Now?” she asked, what she meant was ‘really?’

He gave her a sharp nod, understanding.

“Yeah, I’ll meet you out there ,” Dove replied, sounding a bit more eager than she wanted to.

Finding her way outside, she felt the bite of heat instantly, but it was admittedly nice out. Birds were serenading her as she walked barefoot as always across the warm grass. And just as promised, she was pleased to find that Bucky had taken up a spot at the table. He was sitting under the wide birth of shade provided by the trees resting overhead.

She felt her brows curve and her lips part in awe when she saw that he had made up a pitcher of ice water and set a couple of glasses out for them in the center of the table. Probably figuring she needed to hydrate— which she desperately did.

What confused her though was the lack of a newspaper, instead replaced by a piece of paper so large it could be considered a poster board. He had various protractors and rulers resting around him, along with a pencil sharpened to a daggers point.

When Dove moved closer, she realized the paper was covered in the beginnings of some kind of sketch. Perfectly straight lines formed what looked like a blue print for a house. “What is that?” she asked, holding her hand to her forehead to shield her eyes from the bright sun, only amplified by her hangover.

“Just a project,” Bucky replied simply, eyes set on the paper while he measured out another line.

Dove sat in the chair across from him, dropping down her book, journal, and a couple of pens unceremoniously to the surface of the table, then tucking her legs to her chest. She watched him work as she filled a glass for herself and topped his off, noticing how a small wrinkle formed between his brows as he concentrated and the dimple in his chin seemed to deepen. “I didn’t know you were into architecture.”

“You never asked,” he countered.

She scoffed, being reminded of his impertinent side, but somehow finding it endearing for the moment. “Is that what you’re studying at school?”

“Yep.”

“Is that what you want to do for work? Be an architect?”

“Yeah, uh, it sorta runs in the family,” he said cooly, vaguely referencing that his ancestors basically built the town.

Dove sighed, getting frustrated by his aloof responses. Why had he even asked her to join him if he didn’t want to talk? Instead of snapping, she opened her book and started reading in the hopes that the action would calm her temper.

Bucky chewed on his lip while he drew, staring intently on the sheet before him, but his eyes were continuously being tugged at to peek at the girl sitting across from him. As if they were on strings and some devilish force was insisting on distracting him.

She looked gorgeous with the bright sun illuminating her. Angelic almost. Her hair was messily tied up with a stubborn lock falling in front of her face as she stared down at her book. She continuously blew it out of her line of vision with her rosy pink lips, rather than taking the time to pin it back.

The thin cotton pajama set she still had on barely covered her. The same delicate lace lined her spaghetti strap top and tiny shorts. She looked so raw as she sat there before him. So unapologetically herself. Not a speck of makeup was covering her features. There was no pretense. No facade.

Bucky allowed himself to briefly soak in the sight of her, wanting to commit it to memory. To be able to look back on it and remember how she looked in that exact moment. _Beautiful_.

He had wanted to reach across the table and touch her as soon as she had sat down. To touch her skin. To memorize just how silky smooth she was. After the fleeting contact he got night before, it was all he had been able to think of. It was why he was giving such short answers and barely looking her in the eye. He was overwhelmed to say the least. Not only that she had finally agreed to spend time with him, but by her proximity.

He didn’t want to mess anything up, but he supposed he might’ve been by being so cold.

“So, you want to publish something huh?” Bucky asked, hoping to make up for the distance he created between them.

Dove’s train of thought was cut short, being pulled right back to reality by the raspy voiced question being sent her way. “Yeah, that’s the goal,” she said, peeking up from the page to find Bucky still diligently working, “then I can save up to move away.”

“Little Wing wants to leave the nest…” he muttered the pun mostly to himself, voice sounding distracted by his work, “why?” he asked, finally allowing himself to make eye contact with her.

“Why what?”

“Why move away?” he clarified.

She was confused by his question, frowning at him. “Doesn’t everyone want leave their hometown?” Instantly answering her own question internally, reminding herself of how everyone that lived in Roseworth was born there and would probably die there. What she really meany by her question was _‘don’t you want to move away too?_ ’ Like always, he understood.

Bucky shrugged, grunting in his chest. “It’s not so bad here.”

“So you plan on living here forever?” she asked in disbelief.

“I don’t know if I’d say _forever_ ,” he shook his head, “but I’m not particularly unhappy here or anything.”

“God, you sound like every one else in this fucking town,” Dove spat, “people always just _settle_ in life. Like why wouldn’t you want to see what the world has to offer? There’s so much to see and experience and you’re not going to see anything good staying _here_ your whole life.”

Bucky glared at her with a clenched jaw from across the table, setting down his pencil. “Are you always this judgmental about people’s choices or is it just with me?”

She took a drink of her water, rolling her eyes. “You’re not special if that’s what your asking. I think anyone that wants to stay here is dumb and you’re no exception.”

He thought for a moment, running his tongue over his teeth. “Don’t you get mad when your family judges you for wanting to move away?”

“Yeah,” she said, her tone sounding more inquisitive than decisive.

“Then why judge others for staying?” Bucky asked with a self-assured air in his words. She shifted in her seat, realizing she had no real argument to counter with, so he continued. “Seems sorta hypocritical if you ask me, Dove.”

“Well, I didn’t ask for your opinion.”

“I didn’t ask for yours either,” he said, picking back up on his sketch.

Dove lifted her book back in front of her face, scowling as she scanned for where she left off. Realizing that she had just lost that round of the game. “I hate you,” she muttered under her breath.

“I know you do,” he replied softly, surprising her. He had always said it right back to her. It had been a longstanding exchange between them since they were young to say they hated each other. But he didn’t say it back. She felt her lips curl with a smile, thankful that her book was concealing her reaction when she realized that he willingly passed his victory off to her with four simple words. Letting her win the round.

The rest of their afternoon was fairly lackadaisical, simply lounging around the backyard while they worked side-by-side on their projects. When the heat became too much to bare, Dove stepped inside to talk on the phone with Wanda for what seemed like hours to Bucky. She was perched at the kitchen counter with the long cord dangling from the wall, while he was sitting through the doorway in the living room watching tv.

He couldn’t even fathom how they could talk for so long without running out of topics. Names he didn’t know were thrown around in gossip, being followed by hysterical cackling by Dove and which he assumed was being echoed by Wanda on the other side of the call.

The sound of her laughter made the corners of Bucky’s mouth raise unabashedly. _God she had a cute laugh._ He peeked over from the couch, craning his neck to be surprised by a view of her ass. She was still in those tiny pajama shorts and with the way she was leaned over the counter, there wasn’t much left to the imagination.

He licked his lips, then biting them as he let himself stare for a moment. Having to literally fight off a groan when she arched her back as she threw her head back laughing again. _She was a babe and didn’t even realize it_ , he thought to himself.

Bucky rolled his eyes, standing from his seat to walk to the kitchen. He purposefully brushed past Dove, letting his hand rest on her waist for only a second as he moved by her for the cabinet to find himself a glass.

The touch didn’t go unnoticed by her. Halting her words mid-sentence as she stared at him filling a glass with some of the lemonade from the fridge, before being questioned by Wanda and continuing where she left off in her story.

Bucky was turned away from her, letting himself flash a smile, happy he got a reaction out of her. He had been worried the night before was simply a result of her drunkenness, but the little reactions he pulled from her made it clear it wasn’t a one off feeling.

He walked past her again, gently gliding against her ass. Secretly thankful for the small amount of space allowed between the kitchen counters.

Heat grew in her cheeks at the feeling and she couldn’t help the instinct to arch her back into him, wanting just a bit more contact, but by the time her brain signaled her to move, he was already gone.

“Hey uh, I gotta go Wands, but I’ll be over tomorrow to help you pack okay?” She slammed the phone back onto the wall and skipped into the living room, plopping down beside Bucky on the couch.

Even though there was plenty of room to spread out, she was feeling bold and sat just a bit too close to him, so their thighs were barely touching. Despite the odd desire to be near him, she was also hoping to veg out in front of the tv for a bit and rid herself of the remnants of her lingering hangover.

Bucky swallowed hard at the feeling of her touching him, no matter how light. She was driving him _mad_. Everything she did further proved his point that he should be avoiding her. She was too dangerous to be around, but he just couldn’t help himself. “Help pack?” he asked, furrowing his brows. Internally cursing himself for how tense his voice sounded.

Dove frowned, confused by his question, before realizing he must’ve heard her conversation. “Uh yeah, my friend Wanda is going to Europe. She leaves tomorrow.”

“Sorry,” he chuckled, “eavesdropping.”

“Whatever, ya creep.”

Bucky laughed, taking a sip of his lemonade as he side eyed her. His fingertips burned to reach out and tuck back that strand of hair that had been coming loose from behind her ear all afternoon, but instead tightened his grip on the glass. “How long will she be gone?”

“A month,” Dove pouted, staring at the tv, “I’m so jealous she gets to actually go somewhere this summer. I wish my parents would’ve planned a vacation for us.”

“Hey, at least your parents didn’t leave for a vacation without you,” he muttered, referencing his mom’s absence for the summer.

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that.” Dove turned her head to look up at him. “Where did your mom go?”

“She’s in New York,” he admitted, making Dove’s eyes widen. “I have family over in Brooklyn, so she took my sister with her for the summer. She thought it would be good to get Rebecca out of town before she starts high school.”

“Why didn’t she take you?”

Bucky shrugged. “I didn’t really want to be under my mom’s watchful eyes all summer. I feel too old for that shit now.”

“But you’d get to be in the _city_ ,” she argued, shocked that he chose to stay in boring old Roseworth instead of New York.

“I spend the holidays there every year, so it’s really nothing new to me,” he breezed, “I’d rather have the freedom to do what I want with my time.”

“And what is it you do with your time?”

His expression pinched at her quizzical mood. “What does _that_ mean?”

“I don’t know… I mean, you’re usually gone all day, so I don’t even know what you do. You got a secret girlfriend or something?” Dove inferred in a playful tone.

“What if I did?” he asked with narrowed eyes, looking over to her, trying to get a read on her question. Unsure if it was an innocent curiosity or a weighted one like he felt it was.

Dove blinked up at him, taken aback by the tone shift. She felt herself shrinking under his scrutinizing stare. Suddenly much less confident in her teasing question. “I-I don’t know. You can do what you want.”

“Yeah I know that, honey,” Bucky said, lips curling slightly. “But would you mind if I did?” He knew all too well that he had an effect on her and that she wouldn’t be happy if he were seeing someone, but he wanted to hear her say it. He wasn’t seeing anyone. Not at all. But he loved the way she was squirming in her seat having to think about it.

Dove forced an uncomfortable laugh. Abruptly, that much more aware of how close their faces were with how they were sitting. “Why would I?”

“You know why,” he scrunched his eyes as he spoke in his husky voice, somehow sounding even deeper than usual, “I know why.”

She felt like the room was shrinking around her. Like the walls were slowly creeping closer and closer to her sides. Like if she were to continue breathing the way she was, she’d run out of oxygen and suffocate to death.

“I don’t—” she shook her head, trying to pull herself from the dazed lust she felt clouding her reaction, snapping back to her arrogant facade she smirked, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Bucky’s expression slowly slid into wicked grin, flashing his teeth. “I suppose it’s just like that journal of yours. Something that doesn’t matter.” The subtext of his words being: I know you care _a_ _whole fucking lot_ about it, but you’d rather pretend it doesn’t exist. Just like her conflicting feelings for him.

“Exactly,” she confirmed, biting her smile, keeping her stare unwaveringly set on his blue eyes.

Continuing that game of ping pong she never wanted to end. Playing off of each others’ words. Speaking in code the way they so often did together.

Bucky settled back in his seat, turning back to the tv as their words hung in the air. The room was slowly cooling off from the afternoon heat as the sun set, but he still felt a bit toasty. Whether it was from the rousing conversation or the weather, he couldn’t be sure. He sipped on his lemonade, licking the sour sweet stick from his lips as his mind wandered everywhere, except to what was playing on the screen.

Every small movement Dove made, every soft sigh, every time she cleared her throat. All of it held his undivided attention.

The longer her sat with her, the more he realized that his infatuation with the girl was the result of how evenly matched they were. Both of them were incredibly well skilled in toying with the opposite sex. Both of them unyielding in their stubborn desire to tease the other. Both of them determined to break the others tenacity.

It was a battle of wills. With Bucky testing the razor thin edge of her restraint and Dove returning the exact same efforts, just as dangerously.

He wasn’t sure they’d ever find a resolve, because to get to that point— one of them would eventually have to give in.

“Are you hungry?” Dove asked, breaking through his thoughts.

“Yeah, I actually am,” he realized, like as soon as she reminded him food existed, he felt his stomach aching to eat. “We could go to the diner. My treat,” he suggested trying to sound as casual as possible.

His words were said in a far too breezy and slapdash tone that made Dove smile. It was clear to the both of them that he was trying to force a friendly tone to make the offer seem innocent, when they both knew it wasn’t.

Bucky caught the smile and responded with his own, almost in self-mockery, sensing that she saw through his ruse. She took the smile as a confession to what she assumed he was thinking, confirming her suspicions with a single flash of humor in his eyes.

“That sounds nice,” she said, agreeing to his offer after the wordless exchange.

After they got dressed into more appropriate clothing and Dove added a bit of makeup to her face— hoping Bucky wouldn’t notice— he drove them to the diner.

Just as she had started to fear on the drive over, it was pretty busy. Being that it was Saturday night at one of the few establishments around town, there were more than enough familiar faces locked in on the pair as they walked inside.

They were quickly seated in a booth over in the far corner of the neon lit room, which Dove was thankful for, knowing most stares weren’t able to reach that far across the space.

She realized much too late that she should’ve suggested ordering a pizza. The whispering that filled the room had replaced the roar of conversation, confirming her worries. There was sure to be a tidal wave of gossip washing over the town following their outing. Not that there was anything going on between them except for the fact that they both needed to eat.

Bucky was their houseguest for the summer and most of the town knew that, so it couldn’t have looked _that_ weird that they were getting dinner together, could it?

“What are you gonna get, Little Wing?” Bucky asked, staring at the menu in his hands. Not even realizing what Dove was internally struggling with. His focus was solely on the meal he was about to eat.

She stopped her fretting, reaching over to grab a menu from behind the napkin dispenser, sandwiched between the ketchup and mustard bottles. She looked through the options, humming to herself. “Probably the grilled cheese,” she said unenthusiastically, since it was her go-to.

“That’s it? You don’t want a burger or something?”

“I don’t eat meat,” Dove explained, shaking her head.

“Didn’t know that,” Bucky replied with raised brows, still staring at the menu, “how long has that been going on?”

“About two years now. My dad hates it. He says I’m gonna get sick without a healthy dose of red meat in my diet, but I think it’s murder.” She was waiting for Bucky to agree with her dad, but was pleasantly surprised when she was met with an understanding nod.

“Good for you. I mean if you can live like that, why not? I just love bacon too much. I could never give that up,” he laughed.

Dove smirked, shaking her head. “I mean to be honest… sometimes I’ll sneak the occasional piece of bacon like once or twice a year, but I try to keep the animal product to a minimum.”

“Your secret is safe with me.” He winked, setting the menu back into its spot and glancing around the room. “Jeez, it’s busy tonight, what’s a guy gotta do to get some service around here? I got a lady with me for god’s sake,” he muttered just loud enough for Dove to hear, making her giggle.

She scanned the room along with him, before locking eyes with Peter from across a few other booths. He beamed back at her and rushed over. “Hey Dove!”

“Look at you, working man,” she gushed, gesturing to his uniform. “How’s it been here?”

“It’s been good. Everyone is really nice and no one gets too mad when I mess up,” he laughed. “Have you been helped yet?”

“Not yet,” she shook her head, “are you able to take our order?”

Peter nodded, finally looking over to who was seated across from her and doing a double take with widened eyes when he realized who it was. “Woah, _Bucky_? It’s so good to see you, man. I don’t know if you remember me or anything but—”

“Uh, Peter right?” Bucky asked, pointing a finger, coaxing an eager nod out of him. “Good to see you too, kid. How have you been?”

Peter was practically glowing. Not only over the fact that _James Barnes,_ basically Roseworth royalty, remembered him, but that he actually cared enough to ask about his wellbeing. He peeked over to Dove in disbelief, before starting in on his excited rambling. “I-I’ve been good. I just graduated high school and I’m working here this summer, but I’m gonna be going to MIT in the fall so that’s really exciting—”

Dove covered her eyes with a hand in embarrassment, quietly chuckling as he continued to sputter out information about himself.

Bucky simply sat listening, wearing a slightly perplexed smile. Not mocking him, but admittedly humored by the eager tone of Peter’s voice. Although he was a little overwhelmed with how quickly he spoke, Bucky appreciated when people showed passion and Peter was oozing with it, perhaps a bit magnified with some nervousness because of who he was speaking to, but it was still nice to see.

“—but my aunt will come visit me whenever she can and I’ll be back home for the holidays, so it won’t be too bad,” Peter surmised, taking a visible breath from talking for so long without a break.

“That all sounds great, Peter,” Bucky said, smiling at him, “it’s really good to see you again.”

“It’s really good to see you too.”

“Um, can you take our order now, Peter?” Dove cut in, “or do you want to keep kissing Bucky’s ass?”

“I was not—” Peter started to argue before she cut him off, reassuring him it was just a joke. After they ordered, he sped back off to the kitchen, leaving them sitting alone once more.

“Nice kid,” Bucky observed as he watched him walk off, making a mental note to leave him a generous tip, then looking back at Dove, “are you guys close?”

“Yeah, he’s one of my best friends.” She nodded. “I adore him,” she added lovingly, with a sigh.

Bucky tilted his head at the sentiment in her voice. “Do you…?”

“ _No_. No, no, no. Peter is like a brother to me,” she clarified, knowing he was going to ask if she was into him. “Like you said, just a nice kid. He’s actually dating my friend Mj.”

He nodded. He hadn’t taken much notice in Dove’s social life so all of that was news to him. Especially since he was a few years older and had been gone for the last three years, he wasn’t really familiar with her friend group, except for her best friend Wanda of course. She and Dove had been connected at the hip since they met, so he knew her well enough.

“Sorry he was acting like that,” Dove apologized, referencing the way Peter was behaving like a goddamn groupie the minute before, “he just thinks you’re the coolest, I guess.”

“You don’t think I’m cool?” Bucky teased, smirking at her.

She scoffed. “You’re… fine. I guess.”

“High praise, Miss Rogers, high praise,” Bucky said sarcastically, rolling his eyes as he rested his elbows on the table while he mindlessly played with those damned rings he always wore on his fingers. “Guess I’m nothing compared to _you_.”

“What does that mean?” she laughed.

Bucky shrugged. “I mean, I’m a little past my prime around here. I’ve been away at college and I think you’ve just about passed me up in social status… and I see the way the guys in here are lookin’ at you.” He looked around the room, catching a few staring at Dove even then.

She cocked her head. “How are they lookin’ at me?” she asked, mimicking the way Bucky spoke.

“How _I_ look at you,” he said as he looked back to her, completely confident in his response. Unashamed in the implications that were sure to be conveyed by his words.

Dove bit her lip, looking at him through her lashes from across the table. She realized they were— and he must’ve recognized the signs long before she had— flirting.

Noticing the way her body language had shifted, remembering there were watchful eyes set on her, she moved back in her seat and crossed her arms over her chest. Ridding herself of the blush in her cheeks and the way her back was arching towards him to a much less interested position.

Bucky picked up on the motion, following her gaze out to the room of people. Instantly realizing what she already had from the moment they walked into the diner. They were being watched by people with inquisitive stares that lived to spread gossip.

Their food was brought over by Peter before a word could be uttered by either of them, giving them something to focus on besides each other, which they were both thankful for.

Bucky started shoving his burger into his mouth, without a speck of decorum considered. Clearly ravenous from the long wait. He held his burger in his hand like he was strangling it, making Dove have to fight back a laugh.

She ate her grilled cheese at a normal pace, trying to be as neat as she could, unexpectedly conscious of the way Bucky saw her. She picked at her side of fries and sipped on her soda between bites of food.

Neither of them said a word while they ate. As if the weight of their actions was incredibly apparent to them the longer they were together. With the common theme of their time alone, they weren’t doing anything wrong, but their unspoken attraction to the other was making it feel like something downright scandalous.

They both felt what the other was, but nothing was said. As always. They inferred what words the other was toying with, but at the last moment held back.

Both of them were terrified to give in and end the game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope these rambling inner monologues did y’all some good.
> 
> I’m gonna keep saying this (and you’ll hate me for it), but please trust the process! I promise promise promise things get spicy soon. It’s just going to be a lot of slow unraveling until we get there. But hot damn this chapter is like some good ass foreplay before what I have coming on Friday.
> 
> Also, I don’t know if any of you even have accounts on Wattpad (personally I prefer Ao3, but don’t tell those kiddos over there) butttt I usually announce when I’ll be posting next on my profile. So if you ever want to know if there’s been a change in scheduling, you can follow me or just check in there! @dyspneagrime


	6. Like Heaven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear these chapters keep getting longer and longer. Settle in and grab a snack or a coffee!
> 
> There's some major shit going on in this one. Sound the alarm.

Dove was standing in Wanda’s closet, ripping through her rack of clothing. Lifting up the occasional item and being met with either a ‘ _yes_ ’ or a ‘ _no_ ’ from her friend, who was sitting on her bed, folding her pile of approved clothing into her suitcase.

They had been at it since nine in the morning and it was getting well close to ten, since they continued to take breaks to refill their mugs of coffee or talk about nonsense. Both of them were utterly terrible at staying focused on things that weren’t particularly thrilling. Also, both of them were wishing they could be out having fun instead of doing the mundane, repetitive activity, but Wanda only had another hour before she had to leave, so they couldn’t exactly quit.

Why did Wanda leave packing for last minute? Neither of them knew, but it was too late to worry about it.

Dove moved to the dresser, digging through the wadded up pieces of fabric and trying to pick out things she thought could be useful. “Oh, open the top drawer on the left,” Wanda said, pointing a finger to the one she was referencing. “I need a shit ton of bathing suits for this trip.”

“Doesn’t Europe have like tons of nude beaches?” Dove laughed, opening the drawer and picking through her bathing suits.

“Did you forget I’ll be with my _family_?” Wanda cringed at the thought.

“I was kidding,” Dove clarified from over her shoulder, then tossed Wanda a few different options from her drawer. She walked over and sat down beside her, letting out a deep breath as she hit the mattress. “I don’t know what I’ll do without you here,” she admitted sadly.

Wanda smirked, tucking the swimsuits into her bag. “I know you hate being a third wheel with Mj and Peter, so why don’t you hang out with Bucky some more?”

Dove groaned. “I never should’ve told you about that. I knew you’d hold it against me.”

“Well how was I supposed to react? You basically went on a _date_ with him.”

Dove was initially unsure if she wanted to bring up their visit to the diner, knowing that Wanda would surely give her shit about it, but she wasn’t exactly great at hiding things from her best friend. She spilled the beans the second she got to the Maximoff’s house, needing to talk it out with someone, instead of her constant inner monologues that played in her mind. “For the last time, it wasn’t a _fucking_ date. We were just hungry so we went to get food,” Dove argued against her inference.

Wanda arched a brow as she readjusted a few items in the bottom of her suitcase to make more room. “The night after you tried to kiss him? And he admitted he wanted to kiss you too?” She gave Dove a knowing look as if to say, ‘ _I see right through you, so stop trying to lie’._

Dove winced, knowing she had no argument left to give. “Well either way, he made the point that nothing can happen between us and he’s right. Steve would bug out and I don’t even know how my parents would react… I just feel like it wouldn’t end well. It’d be best if I just avoided the guy.”

“I don’t think you should let other people’s opinions hold you back, but do what you want.” Wanda shrugged. “And it’s not like I’ll be gone all summer,” she said, referencing the start of their conversation, “it’s just one month and I’ll be back in time for your birthday. In the meantime, just chill with Mj and Peter.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know all of this.”

Wanda gave her a sad smile, then sighing and wearing a determined look. “We gotta finish this up cause I gotta skitty soon.” She gestured to the piles of clothing and bags sitting on the bed in front of her. “My mom will kill me if I’m not ready to go.”

The next hour was filed with fairly focused packing by both of them. Wanda was back and forth from the bathroom, grabbing her toiletries and makeup, while Dove attempted to stuff everything into various bags.

With five minutes to spare, Wanda was packed and out front, helping her parents get everything into the car with Pietro.

Dove watched as the family drove away, waving after them as they made their way down the street. She frowned, feeling like her summer was about to get a lot less exciting without Wanda around. As a memento and a thank you for helping her pack, Wanda gave Dove a few joints from her stash, reminding her to space them out over the next month until she was back.

Once the car turned the corner, Dove got onto her bike and rode home. She passed by Steve driving to work on her way, chucking up a peace sign to him. He stopped in the middle of the road to remind her that their parents would be back from the coast later in the day and they were supposed to have family dinner.

When she got home, she kicked off her sneakers and walked straight for the kitchen. Desperate for a glass of water after her bike ride in the scorching heat. When she hopped up on the kitchen counter and started chugging her drink, she felt the heartbreak over Wanda’s departure hit her. It was like finally being alone with her thoughts made it that much worse.

Except that isolation was fleeting, since Bucky walked in from the backyard, hands full of his large drawing paper, pencils, and tools. _So much for avoiding the guy,_ she thought to herself.

“How’s it going, Dove?” he asked as he set his things down at the table and walked over to top off his mug of coffee. She shrugged in response, hoping he would back off if she seemed uninterested enough. Her hopes were not only driven by the feeling that they shouldn’t be alone together, but also not wanting his pity.

Thing was, it only made him want to press her more. Bucky always found her indifference intriguing. He wanted to know what she always seemed to try hiding from everyone. “What’s wrong?” he pushed, looking concerned.

As much as Dove wanted to avoid conversation, she couldn’t help giving into that soft pout his face naturally formed into. His default resting face just looked that way. It was irresistible— the way he’d look at her with his blue puppy dog eyes and his naturally downturned lips. “Um, Wanda just left for her trip.”

Bucky nodded, taking a sip of his coffee. “That’s right. You went to help her pack this morning,” he recalled, remembering when he overheard her discussing it the day before on her obnoxiously long phone call.

“Yeah,” Dove confirmed, “I know it’s dumb, but I just feel like my summer won’t be as fun without her here and I just really wanted some quality time with her before she moves to New York.”

He understood. The two of them had been inseparable since they met. Just as close as he and Steve had been their entire lives, so he knew the idea losing Wanda was sure to be hard on Dove.

Bucky also knew that Dove genuinely valued having fun. A little too much at times, maybe, but it was just in her nature. She thrived on adventure and ignoring responsibilities. Especially since it was her last summer to feel like a kid, he sympathized with her reaction completely.

Thinking on his feet, he came up with a plan. “Why don’t you let me take you somewhere? I think you’ll like it.”

Dove felt her eyes widen at the offer. Looking literally everywhere in the room, but at him. Her stare danced around, doing everything in her power to not look his way. “Um, I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

Bucky smirked, watching her squirm. “Don’t think you can control yourself around me?” he teased in a playful drawl. Knowing damn well he could barely control himself around _her_. Even with the way she was sitting on the counter was irresistible. Her goddamn denim cutoffs showed plenty of her tanned legs. Her top was showing off part of her stomach. So much skin. _Always_. Always with the skin, that one.

Her brows snapped together at his response. She was never one to back down from a challenge and she wasn’t going to start trying any time soon. “Fine. Let’s go,” she said decidedly, hopping off the counter and walking past him.

He chuckled at her predictable response, realizing how we he really knew her. Something he’d occasionally question after years of being away for school and with how much she had matured, but deep down she was still that same little girl he’d known since he was small.

Stopping her before she walked out of the kitchen, Bucky grabbed her by the wrist. “You might want to put a swimsuit under your clothes and probably grab a towel.”

“Are we going to the river?”

“Not exactly.”

With that fuzzy response hanging in the air, Dove gave him a look of amused uncertainty. She could tell his response was intentionally vague— a craft she had been trying to master when speaking to him. He clearly wanted to surprise her with something. In the hope that it was worth breaking her rule of staying away from the guy, she rushed upstairs to put a bikini on underneath her clothes and grabbed a couple towels for them.

When Dove walked back down stairs, Bucky had changed into his swim trunks with a thin cotton t-shirt over top. So thin in fact, she could see the golden chain that he always wore resting underneath the fabric. He asked if she was ready and was met with a silent, shy nod. Like she was embarrassed to acknowledge that she was willingly spending time with him yet again.

They walked outside and when Dove started to walk to his car, he shook his head at her. “We’re walking.” Nodding down towards the end of the road. Towards _his_ house.

“Are we going over to your place?” she asked, switching directions as he instructed.

“You don’t like surprises do you?”

“And you don’t like answering questions do you?” Dove retorted, rolling her eyes as they started to walk down the side walk together. “Ya know, I was just _asking,_ dickhead,” she said in a tone that had a bit more of an edge than she would’ve liked to convey.

“Well, _stop_ fuckin’ asking,” Bucky argued back at her, throwing his hands in exasperation. “I’m trying to cheer you up here, so just stop being a brat.”

“I didn’t ask you to do that,” she yelled.

Bucky groaned in frustration, wiping his hands over his face, then looking down at her. “You’re a goddamn pain in the ass, you know that?”

She glared up at him. Pissed he snapped at her, despite the fact that she was the one that had shifted her tone initially. Back to their usual bickering. And that’s all it ever was with them. Just bickering. Their arguments had never been about anything deep enough to scar or leave either one truly hurt. Perhaps it could’ve been seen as almost endearing to an outside perspective.

As the uncomfortable silence drew on, they both ended up smiling to themselves. Like always— left with an almost humored annoyance, rather than a true bitterness. The arguing was an aspect of their relationship Dove had finally let herself accept. She no longer tore him to shreds in her mind. She would instead shrug off his asshole-ish ways and maybe— _just_ _maybe—_ find them a little bit funny.

They continued down towards the end of the road and the houses stopped, replaced by towering trees that hung overhead. Forestry became thicker and thicker on the sides of the street. The ancient maples made the heat just a smidge more bearable with the provided shade. The sounds of the neighborhood behind them went silent the further back they got; substituted with the soft sounds of birds singing around them and the skidding of their shoes hitting the concrete.

Dove wiped the sweat from her brow, then bunched her thick platinum hair in her hands, and lifted it off her neck as she walked. “How did I never realize how far back your house was?”

“Well, you’ve never _walked_ over, have you?” Bucky side-eyed her, raising his brows quizzically.

“The only times I’ve been to your house were to pick up Steve… and I was in a car.”

“There’s your answer.”

Dove laughed, realizing he had a point. His house really wasn’t that far, but the blazing sun was making it feel like it was miles away. Heat radiated from the concrete below. So hot, they could feel it through their shoes.

Around a small bend in the road, they reached the tall wrought iron gate that guarded the entrance of the property. Bucky pushed it open and stepped through, with Dove trailing behind. She had the urge to make some kind of rich kid joke, but bit her tongue.

They approached the home— er, manor. The long driveway fed into a loop that surrounded the front stone fountain. A perfectly tailored front lawn fed up to the gorgeous home. The brick facade was covered in lush green ivy, surrounded by even greener trees. Thousand year old evergreens and oaks. All of this making not only the grandeur, but the age of the property that much more apparent.

The home had been where it sat, on the edge of Roseworth, for longer than there was a town surrounding it. Hundreds of years old, being passed down over generations of the Barnes family. Winnifred was lucky enough to have the home remain in her possession when Bucky’s father had died, along with the generous amount of funds that were passed to her from her husband’s will.

So, that was where Bucky grew up, just like his father before him. In the slightly gaudy, oversized, but _gorgeous_ mansion. It screamed ‘old money’ from the moment it came into sight.

Bucky walked her right up to the front steps, digging his ring of keys out of his pocket, and unlocking the door. He held it open for Dove and her jaw dropped. Although she had seen the exterior many times before, she had never actually been inside of the home.

The sprawling grand foyer held a beautiful chandelier, original floors, and richly stained wood paneled walls. A wide staircase wrapped around the side of the room that surely fed up to impressively sized bedrooms, Dove assumed. The furniture looked about the same age as the structure, but flawlessly maintained, or at least selected to _look_ that way.

“You still with me, Dove?” Bucky laughed, catching the shocked expression on her face.

“Why the fuck didn’t you have any parties here in high school? This place is _rad_ ,” she said, spinning around, staring up at the millwork ceiling.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Could you imagine the damage people would’ve done if I let them run loose around here? This place practically _is_ a family heirloom. My mom would’ve skinned me alive if anything happened.”

“Still would’ve been bitchin’,” Dove muttered under her breath. “So Rich Kid, did you bring me here just to show off your crib? Or what?”

“I’m not rich,” he countered, “my family is.”

Dove laughed, sliding past him, walking further into the home. “That’s just something rich people say when they don’t want to admit they’re privileged.”

Bucky rolled his eyes for a moment, his jaw clenching at the insinuation as he watched Dove waltz down the hall. Out of all the insults she had ever hurled his way— that was the one that actually got to him. He despised being seen that way. Like he was just some entitled, spoiled brat that got everything he wanted.

Shoving his anger aside at the jab, like he had learned to do over the years, he brushed past Dove and told her to follow him.

He led them through the house as she continued to marvel at the structure. It was no surprise he had taken an interest in architecture. Surely growing up in a home like that had left him plenty inspired and well aware of a structure’s potential.

When they reached the french doors just off of the kitchen, he pushed them open to reveal the backyard. Dove was blown away by its beauty and size, just like with the rest of the home. A huge field of lush grass and rose bushes spread out into a thick line of trees. Topiaries were surrounding yet another fountain, mirroring the front of the house.

A moment lost to taking in the view, Dove found herself a few yards behind Bucky’s pace. She lightly jogged to catch up with him. Her sneakers plodding through the grass.

When he spun on his heel to make sure she was still there, he was completely taken aback to how she looked running through the garden. It was a picturesque moment, practically moving in slow motion. Her hair was catching like golden thread in the sunlight, flowing behind her as she rushed over to him. Her tanned arms were pumping as her legs carried her closer. Like something out of a movie. He slowed hard, fighting to turn around and continue on through the yard.

Bucky led Dove into the tree line and down a dirt path that was clearly worn in from decades of trips through the shrubbery. The landscape was no longer perfectly sculpted like the rest of the backyard. It was overgrown and untouched. Everything was just living however it wished.

He held back a few blackberry bush branches for her, protecting her from the thorns that covered them. Guiding her body past his with a helping hand on her waist or hand, making sure to point out roots of trees for her to step over. Every time, he kept his grasp on her for a bit too long.

Just as Dove was about to say something about the journey taking forever, she saw where they were headed.

The path fed out to a secluded body of water. It was a bit too small to be considered a lake, but still too large to be called a pond. It was surrounded by untamed nature. Water lilies rested at the surface of the teal water water that was sparking under the bright light of the sun overhead. Birds flitted around the area, singing out their songs into the air.

There was a tiny dock that rested just above the water. Just a few old slats held together by old rusty nails. Initials and names were carved into the wood. Almost all of them ending in the initial ‘B’, which Dove found rather funny for some reason. As she stood there, she could easily picture generations of Bucky’s family spending entire days swimming in the summer. It was obvious that the place was well loved and well visited.

It was beautiful.

“Do you guys own this?” Dove asked, completely shocked by how serene the spot was.

“It’s part of the property.” He nodded.

She shook her head, blown away. “It’s incredible.”

Bucky smiled at that. Dove was hard to impress— at least she tried to make it seem that way— so the fact that he received a genuine compliment from her was exciting. He wasn’t sure he’d _ever_ been complimented by the girl before.

He stared down at her. Seeing that small quirk in her brow and the curl in the corner of her mouth sent waves of happiness through him. Like he was being steamrolled with joy. Desperate to pull just one more reaction out of her— even if was the last he’d ever see. Even if he were to be struck down where he stood, he was sure he’d die happy. “Care for a swim?” he asked.

“Sure,” Dove agreed before she could think twice about it. Suddenly, the reality hit her that she’d be stripping down in front of him. She was by no means a bashful person, but the fact that it was going to be his eyes— his _damn_ entrancing blue eyes— on her skin, made her nervous. She saw him rip his shirt off in one go, dropping it down to the dock, signaling that it was time to undress.

She kept her gaze down as she slipped off her top and shimmied out of her shorts.

The whole time, Bucky had been sneaking peeks at her as he emptied his pockets. Setting his wallet, keys, and lighter on his towel. Trying to remain as discreet as he could while he watched her undress, but she was making it near impossible for him to maintain his composure.

_So much skin_. Freckled and tanned from her days in the sun. It was all he could focus on. Not even the bright orange swimsuit she wore was registered, but everything that it was failing to conceal. Truly, he couldn’t even say what color the swimsuit was. It was the absolute _last_ thing on his mind.

Every part of her body was curved. Impossibly so. Every part looked silky smooth. He couldn’t help but lick his lips as he drank her in.

“Ready?” she asked, quirking her brows in a way that made it very clear she had noticed his gawking.

“Lead the way,” Bucky replied in his unabashed tone, speaking through a smirk. He knew that he was caught, but he supposed he wasn't doing a great job at concealing his attraction.

Dove walked across the dock, dipping her toes into the water. Holding her hands out for balance while she stood on one foot. Feeling that it was mostly bearable— and much less frigid than the river she usually swam in— she sat down onto the edge of the dock and slowly slipped into the lake. The water was waist-high towards the edge, so she was able to walk in the remainder of the way.

Bucky made his way in behind her, keeping his arms extended. Ready to catch her at a moments notice, since he knew how slippery the rocks at the bottom could be. Having broken many toes as a little boy when he would rush in without help.

Once the water hit Dove’s shoulders, she lifted her legs from the bottom, swimming out into the center. Pushing aside lily pads as she treaded water with her legs. She raised her face to the sun, embracing the contrast of the temperatures on her body, listening to the birds chirping in the trees.

“What do you think?”

The raspy voice coming from right behind her made her eyes shoot open. Looking over her shoulder to find Bucky closer than she realized. His hair was soaked, slicked back by his hands after he dunked his head under the water. Small droplets rested on the tips of his lashes. His blue eyes were that much brighter with the water complimenting them.

Nearly forgetting he had asked her a question, she giggled to herself. “It’s like paradise.”

Bucky’s brows pinched together. “Funny you say that. Steve and I always called it ‘Heaven’ when we were kids.”

“Like Heaven…” she repeated thoughtfully, scanning over the water, then looking back at him. “Did you just hang out here all the time together?”

“Yeah. Steve and I used to come out here almost every day over the summer, and I still come here sometimes,” he admitted, “it’s the perfect place to read or nap even or just be alone with your thoughts.”

Dove nodded, looking around the space to imagine all the summers of fun they must’ve had as kids. “I’m sorta pissed that I had no idea this was here until now.”

Bucky shrugged. “Well, we weren’t exactly friends growing up.”

“Like we are now?” she asked. The question sounded casual enough, but the weight of her inquiry was pressing on her shoulders, making her feel like she was going to drown.

“You think we’re _friends_?” Bucky asked in a way that made her want to eat her words. He sounded almost insulted by the insinuation.

It was surprising to her how quickly his demeanor had shifted, remembering the root of their visit to his secret spot was initially to cheer her up and then there he was, glaring at her from over the water with an expression that skirted cruel.

She swallowed hard, eyes widening. “Y— yes,” she finally replied.

Bucky chuckled in a way that was irked, but somehow at the same time, arrogant. “We’re not friends.” The subtext of his words made clear by the way his angry smile shifted to a playful one that flirted with the unspoken meaning on his statement. _They were more than friends._

Dove blinked at him. Their stares were locked together, neither of them saying anything for a painfully long moment. The only sound between them was the soft splashing of water as they continued to keep themselves afloat.

They were treading water, in more ways than one. Trying to neither to drown nor to swim to safety, but just to stay in place. Because although they didn’t speak the truth, they swore they could hear the other thinking it. Both of them were giving the other every chance to put two and two together and finally speak. Instead, they stayed put. Treading water.

Dove’s breathing had picked up, leaving her with that same feeling she got when he admitted he wanted to kiss her. In the most literal way, she tried to drown her thoughts, dunking her head under the water to snap out of her haze.

She swam towards the shore, rising up to the surface when the water was shallow enough to stand. She crawled onto the dock, dripping wet. Sitting down on her towel that was spread out over wooden planks. When she faced out to the water, she saw that Bucky was following her lead. Because _of course_ he fucking was.

He rose from the water and Dove did everything in her power to not stare at the way droplets streamed over his perfectly cut abs, keeping her stare set down in front of her, staring at nothing in particular.

Bucky sat down beside her, sighing as if he were simply enjoying his day without a care in the world. As if he hadn’t just told her in so many words that he wanted her. As if he hadn’t felt the tension coursing through her. As if he hadn’t noticed the way she wore that same stressed expression she so often did when she realized he was flirting with her.

Reacting much like a virgin the first time they’re touched. Recoiling in shock because of how pleasurable the sensations are. Because it’s _so fucking good_ — it’s almost too much to bare.

Dove chewed on her lip, tucking her knees under her chin. Letting the silence sit between them. Her eyes continued to dance over the water that was sparkling before her, still trying to avoid looking at the soaking wet hottie sitting beside her out of sheer embarrassment over her desire for the guy.

Her stare landed on her discarded pair of shorts, seeing a small bit of twisted paper sticking out of the top of her pocket. She grinned to herself, realizing what it was. Her palms hit the dock and she crawled over to the loose piece of denim, digging into the pocket to grab out her parting gifts from Wanda.

Frowning, when she realized a few of the joints had broken in half from her careless treatment of her clothes— forgetting they were even in there until that moment. She shrugged, figuring she could just re-roll them later with some of the papers she had stashed away in her dresser. Holding one of the few that were still intact, she sat back beside Bucky.

“What do you have there, Dove?” he asked, watching the way she purposely concealed her hand from him.

Dove brought her hand in front of his face, clutching the joint between her fingers. “Are you cool, man?” she asked with smirk, really meaning, ‘do you smoke?’

Bucky laughed, grabbing the joint from her. “Where the hell did you get this from?”

“I have my sources.” She shrugged, grabbing it back from him and holding it between her teeth. “You got a light?”

“A boy scout always comes prepared,” Bucky smarted, reaching beside himself to grab his lighter from his pile of things.

He handed it to her, entranced as she roasted the tip of the joint. Letting the paper catch fire and then bringing it to her lips and puffing on it until it was cherried. Expertly releasing a puff of smoke from her mouth and drawing it back in through her nose. French inhaling like she had done it a hundred times before. “Do you smoke a lot?” he asked, sounding a bit more impressed than he would’ve liked.

Dove took another drag, holding it in for a moment, then tilting her head back to exhale. The smoke caught on the rays of sunshine that beamed through the trees above them. She handed it over to him, coughing once. “Yeah.”

Bucky chuckled at her simple response, nodding his head slowly as he took a puff, holding the joint between his thumb and pointer finger. Squinting his eyes when the smoke stung them. “How long?”

“How long have I been smoking pot?” Dove asked. When she was met with a nod from him, she answered with a nonchalant, “I don’t really know… probably since my sophomore year, but it was a rare occurrence for me up until my junior year. That was when Wanda started selling, so I never really had to pay for it.”

Bucky coughed on his lungful of smoke, shocked by her statement. “ _Wanda Maximoff_ sells weed?” He looked over at Dove, completely astounded.

Dove’s eyes widened, matching his. Her hand flew over her mouth, realizing what she had just revealed, she started laughing. “Please, please don’t tell anyone. Her parents would flip if they found out.”

“Your secret is safe with me, don’t worry. I’m just surprised… eh, I guess not _that_ surprised. That girl is such a fuckin’ hippie.” He smiled, passing the joint back to Dove.

She tilted her head in agreement, licking her lips before taking another drag. On her exhale, she realized how thankful she was for the weed. It calmed the nerves that had been crashing through her chest, leaving her feeling more euphoric than anything.

The two of them sat in silence as they continued to pass back and forth. Both of their heads getting hazier and hazier the longer they smoked. When it was out, Bucky pressed the roach out on the grass behind them, smushing the embers to the damp earth.

As if he sensed her anxieties melting away, her shifted to her and asked, “you feeling better now?” Saying it as if he were tossing her something without a thought, his words had zero pressure to them and he simply waited for her to react.

Dove realized he wasn’t talking about the raging lust she felt for him that she was trying to stifle, but the reason why he originally took her there: to cheer her up since her friend left town. “Yeah, I am,” she said in a bit of a rush, “thank you.” She looked up to him to smile, but her show of emotion was barely a flash when she saw his face.

Bucky was seated closer than she realized, wearing an oddly serious expression. He was almost too close. If he’d brought his ear any closer, Dove was sure he’d hear her heart beating out of her chest. It was a moment she’d read about in novels. That deafening way a character would hear their heart beating in their ears, or how they’d feel like there wasn’t enough oxygen in the world for the way they were breathing. She had never believed that feeling was real, until then.

He stared at her in a way that mirrored the night she tried to kiss him. His eyes were lingering on her face, studying it almost. It looked like he was reading something, but words were replaced by her features. Every wash of color, every freckle. He lifted his hand to touch her cheek, then paused just before he made contact. The promise of so much bliss hovering a fingertip away.

In a millisecond of silence, Bucky had about a hundred thoughts run through his mind. Weighing the consequences if he acted on his desires. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized he needed to give in.

The feeling of his large hand cupping her cheek made her breath stutter. A simple touch of his skin and Dove felt like she had been kicked in the gut and had the wind knocked out of her. His thumb traveled down, resting gently over her bottom lip. Swiping it over the rosy flesh. Left, right, left. His brows were pinched, eyes set on his small movements, tracing behind the path of his finger.

Dove’s eyes had been focused on him the entire time. Completely entranced by his action and too lost to react. All she could do was breath and even that was a laborious act. Practically having to remind herself to continue to do so.

Bucky’s eyes flicked up to meet hers for only a moment, before traveling back to her mouth. Wetting his lips with his tongue, he leaned in. Slow. Impossibly slow. As if he were giving himself time to change his mind, even though both of them knew there was no going back.

He pressed his lips to hers with a warm, gentle, I’ll-meet-you-halfway kiss. But it was pure _electricity_. It wasn't until he felt her desperation that he felt like he had the green light to kiss her how to truly wanted.

His hands wrapped around the back of her head, pulling her mouth tightly to his in a bruising kiss. He slipped his tongue past her lips, lapping over hers. Both of their mouths tasted the same. Smokey and herbal.

Dove allowed herself to get lost in the kiss, like a rag doll in his grasp. Doing almost nothing, but moving her lips in unison with his. She knew how to adjust her mouth expertly like he was, but the sensation was almost too much to bare. She reacted with passion, unable to keep her cool. She was desperate for more, triggering his own reaction to mirror hers.

His hand slid from her damp hair, down over her back and to her waist, scooting her closer to him. Making her arch her back as her breasts hit his bare chest. The rough movement made her whimper softly into his mouth, making him grow hard in an instant. He could feel her wet skin on his own, practically forcing his mind wander to deliciously, unsavory places.

Bucky broke away gently, opening his eyes back up to find her looking at him through a lascivious daze. It was apparent in that moment that she didn’t have much experience. Her expression was that of a woman that had been thoroughly fucked and he had barely touched her.

Dove slowly snapped back to reality, blinking up at him with wide eyes. “W-why’d you do that?”

“Because I wanted to.” Bucky shrugged, as if it was nothing to him. Feeling a bit too vulnerable after making the first move, resorting to trying to hide just how elated he was to finally act on his desires. Something he had learned to do over years of dating. Playing it cool like always.

His flighty treatment of the act pissed Dove off. He was behaving like it was nothing, when she knew it wasn’t. She knew no one could just _fake_ that kind of kiss. It was a really good kiss. She frowned, looking down at her lap. Somehow feeling even worse than when he outright rejected her the night she was drunk.

“Hey,” he said softly, realizing his mistake when he saw her expression, he hooked his finger under her chin for her to look at him, “it was a really good kiss,” he continued, as if he read her mind, repeating her exact thoughts. He smiled down at her, realizing he couldn’t treat her like he did other girls in college. She was young and he needed to be gentle with her. Feeling guilty for her dismissive reaction, he pressed a fleeting kiss to her lips.

When their mouths parted once more, he rested his forehead on hers, leaving his eyes closed as he braced himself to be vulnerable once more. “I’ve been wanting to do that for longer than I’d care to admit.”

Dove pulled back, flashing her teeth at him. “How long?”

Bucky narrowed his eyes at her, fighting back a smile. Instantly regretting his attempt at being open. When she let out a laugh, his glare intensified. He couldn’t decide whether he wanted to keep his pride or indulge her. “Forget about it,” he muttered, standing to his feet to head back to the water.

She hopped up to her feet, grabbing his wrist to stop him. “No, no, I wanna know… when did this little crush of yours begin?” she pushed.

He rolled his eyes, letting out a slow breath and turning to face her. As irritated as Bucky was, his stare traveled down over her body, loving how much of her skin was still exposed to him. His touch went to her waist, thumbs running over her hips. Admiring how large his hands looked on her.

Just as Dove started to melt into him, he hoisted her over his shoulder, making her yelp in surprise. He walked over to the edge of the dock, trying to keep her in his grasp despite her writhing and protesting. Taking hold of her waist again, he tossed her into the water.

A huge splash washed over the wood from her body being launched into the lake, landing over Bucky’s bare feet as he started laughing. He clutched his side, scrunching his nose as he cackled.

Dove rose to the surface, brushing her soaking wet hair out of her face, glaring back at him. “You fucking _suck_ , Barnes.”

He wagged his brows as he stepped into the water. “You started it, Rogers. You should know better than to tease someone twice your size.” He swam over to her, being splashed aggressively by her slapping the water his way.

They swam for a while longer, filling the silence with meaningless small talk. Both of them were trying to act as if they hadn’t made out for the first time just a minute ago. Asking each other about things that were easy to talk about. Things like what albums they were listening to, what books they were reading, gossiping a bit about everything that had gone down around town since Bucky had been gone for college.

When the sun started to set behind the trees surrounding the lake, Dove suggested they head back to her house. She knew her parents would’ve been home by then and her mom was probably starting in on dinner for everyone.

They dried off and gathered their things, preparing to make their trek back to Rogers residence. When they got back inside Bucky’s house, he stopped short, considering their situation for a moment. Knowing that if they showed up together, in the same condition— sun kissed, wet, and buzzing from their flirtatious afternoon— it’d be all too obvious what they had done together.

“I think I’ll shower here, but I’ll be over for dinner,” he said, hoping she’d catch on to his intentions.

Dove understood, she herself thinking the same thing when they started heading back. “Yeah, I’ll see you there.” She smiled hesitantly, turning to walk to the front door.

When Dove got home, she could smell something delicious wafting in the air, just like she knew there would be. Paul Anka was playing through the doorway of the kitchen, making it apparent that Sarah was working away on their dinner.

Dove scurried upstairs to shower off. She took time to wash her hair from the lake water and scrub away her day in the heat. The entire time, she was having to fight back a smile as she thought over everything with Bucky. When she stepped out to dry off, the bathroom door was pelted with loud knocks, followed by Steve’s voice telling her to hurry up and that dinner was ready.

After she rushed over to her bedroom and slipped on a change of clothes, she walked down to the dining room to find that everyone was already seated at the table. Bucky included. He was dressed clean-cut as ever. His hair was curled at the top of his head in its usual way. Somehow looking shockingly well groomed, even though he had spent his entire afternoon swimming outside in the sun.

Dove sat in her usual seat across from him, feeling the weight of her actions from earlier in the day. She couldn’t dare look anyone in the eye. Not her mother or father or god forbid, _Steve_.

She felt like she must’ve looked as different as she felt. As if they would be able to see that Bucky’s lips had touched hers. As if they would see, nestled deep in the crevices of her lips, embedded in the blush pink skin, that she had been kissed. As if they would be able to see the images that were flashing through her mind if they looked into her eyes. They’d surely see the fireworks that were still being set off inside her. They’d see the way she was being tickled by the butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

She’d be done for. They’d know. They’d all know.

“What’d you get up to today, Buck?” Steve asked, taking a huge bite of steak into his mouth.

Both Bucky and Dove’s stomachs sank at the inquiry. Both of their eyes landing on Steve. Bucky wasn’t even sure if he should lie or not. Ignoring the fact that he and Dove got stoned and made out, they really just had a civil afternoon together. He could just tell them that they went swimming, right? But he was smart enough to know that everyone at the table would find it a bit too odd to brush off as a causal thing.

“Just took care of some things over at my place,” he replied. Keeping it vague. He wasn’t lying per se, just withholding who he was there with and what he was doing.

Dove literally felt the muscles in her shoulders relax at his response, thankful that he was so slick in his ways. Her stare fell back down to her food, gathering a bite of vegetables and rice for herself.

“How was _your_ day?” Bucky asked Steve, expertly switching the attention of the conversation from himself onto someone else without a trace, under the guise of friendly interest, like he so often did. Made sense how he got the reputation of being such a charmer.

“Just a usual work day, until Randy’s buddy brought in his Firebird. That got everyone pretty stoked.” Steve smiled. “I didn’t get my hands on it, but it was so cool.”

Dove tuned out the rest of the conversation at the mention of a car. She didn’t care or even know anything about them, so she went to her default setting at the table, staring blankly and shoveling food into her mouth while everyone spoke around her.

She was adjusting her posture in her seat when she accidentally knocked her foot against a much larger one that belonged to the man seated across from her. The contact startled her. She withdrew, tucking her foot back under her chair, not immediately, but rather letting it linger a moment. Consciously trying to ensure she waited a decent amount of time to not seem panicked to Bucky.

Gently, as he continued to speak to Steve and Joseph, Bucky nudged his shoe back against her bare foot. Not showing the smallest bit of distraction as he formed his sentences. When his leg retracted back, his eyes met Dove’s. Only a fleeting second of a stare, but it told her that he liked the contact.

The look spurred something inside of her.

As Dove continued to feed bites into her mouth, she extended her leg back out. This time much further than the first. Her foot grazed Bucky’s shin. Running her toes over the fabric of his jeans, creeping up further and further until she hit his knee. She was pleased to see she earned herself a reaction this time.

Bucky froze halfway through cutting his steak, attention locking in on her and then continuing to cut himself a bite while he stayed locked in on the girl across from him.

She licked her lips slowly, hoping no one saw. Not that anyone payed her attention anyways. Her father and Steve were immersed in some kind of boring drawl about mechanics or maybe football— she had no idea — and her mother was listening in politely.

Bucky’s brow jumped so slightly, she wasn’t sure if she was imagining it. When her foot continued over his knee, brushing up his thigh, his eyes narrowed at her. He took his fork and flipped around it in his hand, then stabbed it roughly into his bite of steak. As if to silently warn her.

Dove got the message, but simply smirked in response. Watching him as he brought the piece to his mouth on the end of the prongs, biting it off a bit too aggressively. Her cheeks went pink at the action, feeling an unexpected glimmer of desire. _Why was that so hot?_ She instantly retracted her leg and sat back up in her seat. Picking at her food and desperately trying to suppress the heat she felt in her face.

“You look like you got some sun today, Lovey,” Sarah observed with a smile, tilting her head to admire her daughter.

“Mm. Yeah, where were you when we got home?” Joseph asked, chewing through his question.

Dove felt herself flush even more at the inquiry, but she kept her head down to hide the color behind her face. “I went swimming,” she said a bit too quickly.

Steve frowned. “With who? I thought Wanda left today.”

“Mj and Peter,” Dove sputtered, still sounding unnatural in her manner of speaking. At least she thought she was. Maybe it was just her anxiety making her hyperaware of her uncharacteristic behavior, but she couldn’t be sure, so she added on, hoping to somehow replace her clumsy tone with even more words. “I went out after I helped Wanda pack. It was really nice out, but I guess I got a little burnt.”

“Well, make sure you remember to put on some sunscreen before you go next time,” Joseph said, pointing his fork at her with one hand and bringing his beer to his lips with the other.

Dove scoffed. “Dad, I don’t use sunscreen, I wanna get tan over the summer. Isn’t that the whole point?”

“Not if you’re getting burnt every time you go out, Dove,” he retorted.

“It’s not a big deal. I’m just a little pink, that’s it.”

“Dude, stop arguing with Dad,” Steve said, glaring at her from the other end of the table.

“Dude, stay the fuck out of it,” she snapped back, mocking him.

Steve’s eyes widened. “ _Manners,_ Dove. Come on. We’re at the table,” he scolded, gesturing to everyone with his hands out.

“Dad, will you tell Steve to stop parenting me?”

Joseph scowled, looking between his kids. “Dove, I’m not taking your side on this. He’s right, you’re being incredibly disrespectful when you argue with me _and_ you shouldn’t be using that kind of language at the table.”

Dove glared at her dad and Steve, then looked to her mom for help, being met with nothing from her but a pitied smile. “Fine,” she sighed, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t get so worked up, Dovey. You’re still my baby sister and I just want to help you be the best version of yourself,” Steve explained kindly, but she heard none of it.

The whole time the trio was arguing, Bucky had been entertained almost. He was well used to the small fights that would often occur between the family, but what Steve said struck a chord with him. The words ‘baby sister’ made his stomach twist. Replacing his amusement with gut-wrenching guilt.

Bucky had nearly forgotten his hesitations over the last couple days he had spent with Dove. He had started to see her as the woman she had become, not the younger sister of his best friend. It was in that moment, he realized he had let things go a bit too far with her.

He realized that he never should’ve acted on any of it. He was a loyal friend and he had to cut things off before they went any further, knowing deep down he’d never be able to hold back once they started.

“Dove, you’re doing the dishes tonight,” Joseph said, standing from his seat and lighting a cigarette between his lips as he walked out of the dining room, not sparing her another glance. Obviously still pissed at her outburst. “Come on, darlin’,” he said to Sarah, nodding for her to follow him upstairs.

Sure enough, Steve followed suit, explaining that he was exhausted from his day.

All of them leaving, with Dove and Bucky still seated at the table. He eyed her, watching the pout forming over her features, deepening the longer she sat there. He cringed, trying to fight back what he wanted to say, but failing when he quietly muttered, “I can help you clean, Dove.”

Her head popped up, looking at him in disbelief. “You don’t have to if you don’t want.” He should’ve taken the out. He _really_ fucking should have. He should’ve nodded and walked away. But he felt bad for the way her father had yelled at her, so he insisted it was fine.

The two of them started to tackle the mess. Bucky cleared the table, taking the dishes over to Dove as she started scrubbing away the grime over the sink. She was stacking them as she went and setting utensils onto the drying rack.

She looked over her shoulder, finding Bucky wiping off the counters with a rag. She had never seen him do chores before, it almost made her laugh. Her eyes caught on the way he was chewing his lips in focus as he worked. The act reminding her of their kiss earlier in the day, making her want to relive it again and again.

“Um, c-can we talk about earlier?” she asked quietly over her shoulder.

His brows pinched together, unsure of what she was referencing. He leaned up against the counter beside her, crossing his arms and thinking for a moment, trying to decipher her question. Before he could make some kind of idiotic guess, she clarified. “The kiss.” Whispering, so no one in the house would hear, even thought everyone was tucked away in their rooms for the night.

“What is there to talk about?” Bucky asked, his eyes shifting, still reeling after Steve’s ‘baby sister’ comment.

“I mean,” Dove sighed in frustration, “you told me nothing could happen between us, but then you took me to your secret swimming spot and implied some stuff and then kissed me. And I don’t know, I guess I’m just confused.” She was rambling, making it clear how worked up she was over what had happened.

Bucky wasn’t sure he had an answer for her. He hadn’t even thought it through himself. It was just a spur of the moment thing. Although he knew he was incredibly attracted to her and had _some_ kind of feelings for the girl, he couldn’t never tell her that. He couldn’t start something between them that he knew could never happen.

He was sure neither Steve nor their parents would be happy about him trying to make moves on the youngest Rogers. Sarah and Joseph had been so generous to let him stay for the summer— why ruin a good thing over a crush?

Any kind of buzz he felt for the girl had been stilled by his reminder that she was still his best friend’s little sister. She couldn’t be anything more to him.

All of that passing through Bucky’s mind in a flash, he shrugged before whispering, “it was just a kiss, Dove. You’re getting a little a head of things here.”

Her mouth dropped open. “What does _that_ mean? You’re just going to act like this is nothing?”

“That’s _exactly_ what it means.” He looked over his shoulder to the doorway to make sure no one was walking in. “I told you before, I’ve been wanting to kiss you for a while, but it’s out of my system now,” he said, keeping his expression disconnected to match his tone. “We can just go back to normal.”

Dove turned so she was leaned up against the sink, scowling at him. Absolutely refusing to accept his flighty response. “And what exactly is ‘normal’? Like when we were young and you made my life hell? Or like ever since you showed up this summer and started acting like you wanna fuck me?”

Bucky’s eyes widened at her phrasing. Something about the words ‘you wanna fuck me’ leaving her mouth made him have to fight off a devilish grin that was creeping up on him. No matter how out of context, he knew he’d be replaying that in his mind over and over again once he was alone.

Still, he kept his front. “You think I wanna _fuck_ you?” he questioned her, laughing in disbelief.

“Yeah.” Dove nodded, confident in her accusation. “You’ve been acting that way since you got back in town.”

He shook his head, rolling his eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself, Little Wing. I don’t see you like that.”

His words hit her like a slap to the face. Had she just been misreading all of those interactions? Was she really just imagining it all? She was questioning everything. Chewing on her bottom lip, her brows knit together. Still chasing for answers. “Then how do you see me?”

Bucky considered for a moment. How did he see her? The girl that he thought of constantly. The girl that ran through his mind on a loop. The girl that made it hard for him to fall asleep, just because he couldn’t wait to see her the next day. He felt his stomach twist when he imagined saying any of that out loud, no matter how badly he wanted to

He pushed aside all of that when he spoke the words, “as my best friend’s baby sister.” Repeating Steve’s phrasing from the table.

The answer was the nail in the coffin. Dove’s distaste for the guy found its home back in her heart. She nodded, looking down to her feet, before snapping back up to look him in the eye. Glaring at him with a harsh cruelty he hadn’t seen in a while. That fierceness in her eyes, the spark of fury over his rejection. “ _Fuck you, Bucky,_ ” she snapped, speaking through her teeth.

She turned back to the sink, continuing to scrub dishes, silently dismissing him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do we think? Anyone still like me? lol ya'll should know me well enough now to know that I love to torture my readers.
> 
> I know you’re all probably screaming at your screens right now over Bucky being an asshole(which is totally justified) BUT please don't hate him. You have to take into consideration everything behind his actions.
> 
> He’s supposed to be 21 in this. Even some of my BEST boyfriends have still been dumb as shit at that age. So he’s going to be pretty stupid. Also, he comes from a very privileged background and is a player. He’s not fully considering Dove’s emotions in all of this. At least not yet.
> 
> AND he’s a fiercely loyal friend to Steve. I understand that in fan fiction, people often think everything is a free-for-all and characters are clawing at each other's clothing 24/7, but please consider that seeing your best friend go after your younger sibling isn’t usually a welcomed sight. Especially when you're a traditional and protective guy like Steve. Bucky understands that and is going mad trying to control his conflicting feelings.
> 
> All that being said, Bucky will realize that Dove isn't waiting around for him in the next chapter.


	7. Cherry Schnapps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Mildly dubious consent

Bucky had been gone for three days.

Dove had seen absolutely no sign of him whatsoever. He didn’t call. He didn’t stop by for meals or laundry. She didn’t even see him around town. The urge to question Steve for his whereabouts was becoming more and more persistent as the days passed, but she figured the distance was for the best after their last conversation.

No one in her family seemed to pay any attention to his absence, so she thought it was safer to pretend she didn’t notice either. She had only acknowledged his absence once when Sarah wondered where he’d been. Dove played along and pretended to look startled, then muttered something along the lines of “Oh yeah, he hasn’t been back in a while.” She spoke about him like she had forgotten he even existed. But she also made sure not to look too concerned, as if he was just a fleeting thought. As if.

She knew she should’ve hated Bucky after their conversation… but she didn’t. After spending most of her life being ignored and misunderstood, she took extra care to listen to people. Her naturally understanding ways made her sympathize with the points he had made. He was right about one thing: nothing could happen between them. And she understood that.

Regardless, a much more compelling, stubborn side of her was trying to force her hatred for him back to the forefront of her brain. Needing to replace whatever affection she had come to feel for the guy with the longstanding distaste she held for him since she was young.

Any time Dove felt a pang of heartache over his rejection, she’d remind herself of one of his negative traits or something he had done to piss her off. Layers and layers of emotions were building inside of her. Heartache was covered with anger, embarrassment was covered with fury, and so on. Stacking these feelings to conceal that deep sadness she endured.

All of this left her to spiral a bit. She’d often find herself sitting in her window seat, whipping her head to look out the window any time she heard a car drive by, hoping to catch sight of the black BMW. Any time someone walked in the front door, she wanted it to be Bucky. Not even knowing what she would say if it were, but she just hoped it’d be him.

Trying to get herself out of the obsessive routine, she had called Mj and Peter, asking them to meet her at the bowling alley. It was already afternoon by the time she reached out, but they weren’t doing any particularly exciting, so they agreed to meet her there.

Dove was riding her bike up to the archaic white stucco building. The neon sign sitting at the entrance of the parking lot flickered the obnoxious, bubble-lettered, The Lanes logo. There were a few cars outside, including Peter’s.

Resting her bike just outside the front doors, she made her way inside. Her eyes scanned the noisy room that was bustling with conversation, the clacking of bowling balls crashing into pins, and music from the jukebox. In search of her friends, she looked over to the small alcove of rundown pinball machines and pool tables covered in rips, to the concession stand serving up cheaply priced junk food, landing on the lanes of varnished wood.

Mj and Peter were at the furthest lane. He was dancing back from taking his turn in the game, clearly having bowled a strike with the way he was cheering for himself. He bent down, landing an excited kiss to Mj’s lips where she sat at the small corresponding table. She pulled back, laughing as she stood from her seat for her turn.

Dove was instantly reminded of why she didn’t like hanging out with the couple alone. Third-wheeling sucked. Especially with a pair as undeniably adorable as they were.

After grabbing a pair of bowling shoes for herself, she wove through the other groups of people, calling over a loud, “what’s up, lovebirds?”

“Hey, Dove.” Peter smiled, taking a slice of the pizza that sat on the table in front of him. “You want a slice? I got half pepperoni and then half cheese, for you.”

She plopped down across from him. “You’re the best, I’m starving.” She grabbed a slice from the box, shoving the deliciously cheesy bread into her mouth. She looked over just as Mj rolled her ball down the lane, ending her turn with a spare. “Attagirl!” Dove yelled over.

“Not my best work, but whatever.” Mj shrugged, walking back to sit down beside Peter. She took a sip of her coke and propped her legs up on the open chair beside Dove.

Peter kissed Mj’s cheek as he stood from his spot to take his turn. “Oh, did you wanna tell Dove about tonight?”

Her brows raised in interest, eyeing the Mj expectantly while Peter sauntered off. “There’s a party at Daria’s, if you wanna go.”

“Wow, you telling me about a party? Since when you’d become the social coordinator of the group?”

Mj hummed, taking a bite from her slice. “Well, you’ve been slackin’ off,” she joked through a mouthful of pizza, as she covered her mouth with her hand. She quickly chewed and swallowed before continuing. “I know it’s a Thursday, which is kinda weird, but Peter has the day off tomorrow so he really wants to make the most of tonight.”

Dove kicked off her sneakers and started pulling on the pair of bowling shoes. “You know me, always down for a party. I’m guessing he doesn’t want to drive then,” she presumed, nodding over to Peter who was walking back towards them.

“I mean I’d rather not,” he said, answering her question he had overheard. “Work has been pretty stressful, so I really need a night to let loose.”

“You’ve been working there for a week.” Mj arched a brow at him.

Peter frowned, wrapping his arm around the back of her chair. “Hey, I’ve been working pretty hard around there. Either way, I want to drink, so we’ll have to find a ride there.”

Dove’s lips turned down in consideration while she laced her shoes up. “Shouldn’t be too hard to find someone to take us home, but the hard part is getting there.” She contemplated their situation, recalling that Daria lived towards the edge of town. They could’ve potentially walked, but it was just far enough to be arduous, and riding bikes at night while drunk was always a mistake— Dove knew from experience and that wasn’t even including her most recent bike crash.

She scanned the room while she munched on her pizza, until her eyes fell on none other than the easiest guy to play: Kyle. He was leaned over one of the busted pool tables with his group of equally idiotic friends. Each of them more of a douche than the last. “I think I just found our ride,” she said with a grin, nodding her head over to him, making her friends follow her gaze.

“Kyle?” Mj asked in disbelief.

“Oh, yeah. He’s so obsessed with Dove,” Peter explained, recalling the night at the last party they went to. Since he was the most coherent one out of the group— being the designated driver— he saw everything. All the lingering touches, the flirty attempts that went right over Dove’s drunken head.

“I thought that wasn’t happening anymore.” Mj turned back to look at Dove, questioning her.

She laughed, shaking her head as she tossed down the rest of her half-eaten slice and brushed her hands together to rid them of crumbs. “It’s not, but Peter’s right, he’ll probably love the idea of showing up with me to the party. We’ll just use him for the ride and then once we’re there, we can find a way to ditch him. I’m sure we can find someone at the party a little less creepy to drive us home. I even bet our whole class will be there.”

Both of her friends nodded, impressed with her quickly formed plan. “Alright, go talk to him then,” Mj said.

“Not yet.” Dove shook her head, wearing a knowing expression and standing from her seat. “Let’s bowl for a bit.” She knew all too well that boys only did things if they thought it was their idea, so she got to work.

Striding confidently up to the lane, she grabbed one of the free bowling balls. Taking a few steps, she drew her hand back, and then released it down the long strip of light wash wood. She got a strike on her first try and spun around cheering just loud enough and raising her hands over her head.

After turning around to face the rest of the room, she casually flicked her eyes over towards the pool tables, finding Kyle staring right back at her. Perfect, she thought to herself. Purposefully biting a coy smile, she looked down to her feet and walked back to the table. She sat down in her chair, pleased with the reaction from him. “I give it ten minutes,” she declared smugly.

Mj looked over her shoulder at Kyle, who was still transfixed, and then back to Dove with an impressed expression. “I give it five.”

They each took another turn bowling and sure enough, five minutes later, Dove felt a hand hit her shoulder. She smiled discreetly to herself, before turning her expression into a facade of surprise when she looked up behind her. “I’ve been waiting for you to come say hi. Were you just gonna pretend like you didn’t see me playing pool?” Kyle questioned.

“Oh, well I saw you were with your friends, so I didn’t want to bug you or anything.”

“You could never bug me,” he said, rounding the table to sit in the open seat beside her, “what are you up to?” he asked, looking over the table and nodding a silent greeting to Mj, while Peter was up taking his turn.

“Just chilling. Bowling a bit.”

Kyle hummed to himself. “Who’s winning?”

“Does anyone actually keep score?” Dove laughed, picking up the stack of empty scoring sheets to show him. “This shits too confusing for us, so we usually just play for fun.”

“Fair enough,” he agreed, wrapping an arm over the back of her chair. “So is this the plan for the night? Just bowling?” His eyes were unabashedly tracing over her curves, taking in the exposed cleavage over the neckline of her top.

She shifted in her seat to face him, crossing her arms in a subtle attempt to block his view. “Well, I don’t know if you heard about it yet, but we were talking about going to Daria’s party.”

“I did hear about it. It’s supposed to be a pretty rad time.” He smiled, flicking his head to move a stray ringlet of black hair out of his eyes. “The guys and I were planning to go later tonight.” He looked to his friend group still playing pool across the room.

“Hm,” she nodded, “well, I’m not sure if I’ll be there. I don’t think we’ve figured out our ride yet.” She stared across the table to Mj, and Peter— who had just sat back down. Both listening intently to see if their plan would work.

Kyle considered for a moment. “None of you can drive?” he asked, looking amongst the group.

“Well, Peter here can,” Dove explained, gesturing to him, “but I think he was hoping to partake in the festivities tonight and we wanna be safe, ya know? Honestly, we might just stay in and chill instead. It seems like kind of a bust.” She uncrossed her arms, figuring she could use her figure to her advantage.

“I’m sure you could ride with me, babe,” he said, not even attempting to make eye contact with her, “I’m not the one driving, but I bet my friend could make room.”

“Oh, no seriously don’t worry about it. I don’t want to inconvenience anyone.”

Peter opened his mouth to backtrack for Dove, but Mj squeezed his hand under the table, making him clamp his lips shut before he could get a word out. Instantly understanding that she had a reason behind her actions.

And she did. Along with her knowledge that boys never did things unless it was their idea, she knew that people only wanted things more if you told them no first. Maybe even a few times. The more you said no, the more they wanted it. It was classic reverse psychology and Dove was well skilled in utilizing the practice on stupid boys.

“Seriously, it’s no problem at all,” Kyle said. Before Dove could even try to say no once more, he continued. “We’ll pick you up from your place at ten.” He stood from his seat, walking backwards as he spoke, increasing the volume of his voice there further back he got. “You get all dressed up for me, babe. I’ll see you then.”

Dove simply laughed, nodding her head in agreement. The second he turned his back to her, her flirty expression fell into a much smaller grin, oozing cockiness. “Like putty in my hands.”

Peter outright slow-clapped at the exchange. “Well done, Dove. You had me there for a second when you said no to him.”

“She knows her ways,” Mj said, raising her brows.

“Yes I do.”

Dove was squished into the backseat of the car, the seatbelt buckle was dangling loosely by her side, painfully digging into her hip. Kyle and his friends had swung by and picked her up, then Mj and Peter on the way to the party. The five seater was packed with seven people— which was a painfully obvious mistake.

The only relief provided came from the fact that not only did they catch a free ride over to the party, but one of Kyle’s friends had pulled out a joint and everyone was passing it around while they drove. The already-stuffy air became thick with smoke, somehow filling the cabin of the car even more than it already was.

Not even a block into Daria’s neighborhood, there were people walking down the sidewalks towards the party, spelling out the fact that the night would be pretty wild.

They found parking a couple streets away and joined in with the masses of young adults swarming towards the home. The pitch black sky reeked of pot smoke and loud conversation echoed through the otherwise quiet neighborhood.

Dove was mid-conversation with Mj when out of the corner of her eye she saw a truck that was all too familiar. A Chevrolet C10 in that distinct shade of blue she knew so well. A faded memory of a once striking shade of cobalt. Regardless of its apparent age, it was meticulously maintained. Unmistakably owned by someone that had a stick up their ass and liked to keep their possessions pristine.

If those things weren’t enough evidence of who the car belonged to, the football sitting in the bed sure did. Dove groaned when she put two and two together, realizing that Steve was at the party and that meant that he probably brought Bucky with him.

She frowned at the thought, genuinely considering asking to leave, but she didn’t want to cause a scene amongst the group. Along with that, she figured it would probably be crowded enough that she would be able to avoid the two of them.

When they walked up to the house, she felt that much more reassured. It was indeed crowded. The house was practically overflowing with bodies. It seemed that in spite of it being a Thursday night— anyone with a pulse showed up.

The group shoved their way through the crowd that was covering the yard, stepping over discarded cups, to the front door. Pushing their way in, the volume became nearly unbearable. Conversation and music created a deafening mix. Dove grabbed hold of Mj’s hand, while she held Peters. Making a chain of sorts to weave their way through people swaying drunkenly through the house with Kyle and his friends leading the way.

Dove’s head continued to oscillate on a constant swivel, trying to pinpoint the location of her brother and his best friend so she knew where to avoid going. There was no sign of them— not yet at least. Although, she knew she’d see them sooner or later.

Kyle lead the group of them through the house, out into the backyard. In the center of the paved outdoor area, under a few decorative string lights, sat a keg. Looking like more of a watering hole of sorts with the way everyone flocked to it. Like an oasis in a desert and everyone was dying of thirst.

Once they all had filled cups, they stood around just a few feet from the keg. Leaning against a garden wall, talking and drinking. Kyle had an unwelcome hand on Dove’s waist while she talked to Mj and Peter, but she did her best to ignore it. Hoping if she played nice for just a bit longer, she’d eventually be able to ditch him without making it seem too obvious she had used him for the ride. She had even made some obligatory small talk with him, flirting away his future suspicions.

After a while, he had picked up some kind of conversation with his friend Mitch and Dove was free to focus back on her own friends. They were excitedly discussing the upcoming carnival that was set up at the empty fields just past the high school every year. It went on for three days, ending on the Fourth of July with a bang— pun intended. It was the only time of the year there was actually somewhere fun to go in town and Dove had been desperate for it. Peter mentioned that he miraculously had the last night off, so they’d all be able to go together, making her look forward to it that much more.

She was grinning back at him, planning out what time they should go and everything they were going to do, making sure to hit all the highlights of the event. She was getting more and more eager the more she spoke. Rambling between sips of beer.

“Okay, but I can’t do the Tilt-a-Whirl again after last year,” Peter warned, “I was puking up corndogs and I can’t even eat them anymore without thinking about it.”

Mj laughed, wrapping her arm over his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Peter, we can stick you on some of the kiddy rides.”

“Yeah, you can just stick to the Frog Hopper,” Dove added.

“Real funny, guys,” he said, drinking the last of his beer. “I’m gonna get a refill.”

“Oh, wait! Me too, me too,” Dove said loudly before he could saunter off, handing her cup to him. She turned to look up at Kyle, still expecting him to be held in conversation with his friends. But when she saw him staring straight ahead, no longer talking to them, she followed his gaze.

Easily finding Bucky standing across the yard, looking right back at him with an icy cold stare. His head was tilted slightly, giving an arrogant quality to the expression. His squared jaw was clenched, his thick brows pulled straight together. His steel blue eyes flicked to Dove’s when he saw that she noticed him.

To put it candidly, his attention had been stuck on her since the second she had stepped out back. He was completely tuned out of his conversation with Steve and their friend Sam to focus on her as she stood talking to her friends while that asshole she was with kept an invasive grip on the skin of her waist.

Bucky quite literally felt his blood pressure skyrocketing the longer he stared at Dove and that mystery douchebag hooked to her side. Every time the guy’s hand slid lower, Bucky’s hand would tighten around his beer. Every time Dove twirled a lock of her hair around her finger, practically batting her eyes at the guy, Bucky felt his breathing pick up in anger, resenting him for being on the receiving end of her sweet smiles.

He didn’t deserve them, but then again— Bucky knew that he himself didn’t deserve them either.

As angry as he was at the sight, he also understood that such treatment was warranted. He deserved to have an aching stomach and sweaty palms. He deserved to feel that harsh pang of jealousy. He deserved to watch her move on and feel all the heartbreak that came with that realization.

Bucky thought to himself, maybe seeing her pressed against someone else would finally make him let go of that last bit of hope he had. Perhaps it was a good thing. He could move on before anything truly inappropriate happened between them. Just like he wanted… right?

Undeterred by his attempts to snuff out his burning desires, he couldn’t stop ogling at how good she looked. Her frilly purple top was laced up in the middle, leaving a strip of skin exposed down the center of her torso. Her jeans were insanely tight around her hips and thighs, as always, then flaring out around her calves. Her blonde hair as wild and voluminous as ever. Fuck she looks hot, Bucky thought to himself.

He found his scowl, ripping his eyes back to his group of friends as he brushed his fingertips through his short brown hair. Kicking himself for even letting himself think about her that way again. He had been struggling to stifle his near-constant thoughts about her over the last few days, yet today was the first that he hadn’t woken up thinking about her. He thought he was making progress— up until the moment he saw her. Every last urge and desire and fantasy came crashing back into his head. He wanted her more than ever before.

Dove saw the anger flash behind Bucky’s eyes from across the yard before he looked away, being reminded once again that nothing would ever happen between them. She figured he had reverted back to hating her like he used to when they were young, so she followed suit and looked away, breaking off the albeit fleeting, intense eye contact.

“What’s his deal?” Kyle asked, nodding as his stare stayed locked on Bucky.

Dove’s lips slanted in consideration. “No idea,” she lied.

“I didn’t even know Bucky was back in town,” he admitted, following the statement with a drink of his beer. Not wanting to explain that Bucky had literally been sleeping down the hall from her for the last few weeks, she silently shrugged. “I mean, he’s your brother’s best friend right? He’s probably just being protective of you for him, huh?” he guessed, coming up with he perfect excuse all on his own.

“Uh, yeah probably,” she agreed half-heartedly, wanting him to drop the subject. She searched for something to cut the topic, glancing around. She sighed in relief when she saw Peter approaching her, passing her a full cup of beer from the keg. After thanking him, she brought the plastic to her lips, chugging down the entire thing.

“Woah, I didn’t know it was thank kind of night, babe.”

She blinked away her watery eyes from the carbonation and covered up a burp, making Kyle laugh. “It is now,” she chuckled. Looking up to him, she contemplated her next move. She had felt what she was feeling then many times before— pure, unadulterated impulsivity. Her terrible coping mechanisms were coming out to play and she didn’t really feel inclined to fight them off anymore, because that was just the kind of mood she was in. “Think we could find something stronger?”

“We can try,” Kyle said with a grin.

He slid his hand from Dove’s waist to the small of her back, guiding her through the guests, towards the back door of the house. She looked over her shoulder without even meaning to, finding Bucky staring at her once more. She gave him a mocking smile and she could see— even through the dim light— that his lip curled with a scowl, narrowing his eyes at her. She swore she could practically hear his teeth grinding together.

Once they walked back inside to the smoke-filled, deafeningly loud house, they snaked their way around, trying to track down some kind of liquor cabinet to raid. Walking into the living room, they found that the coffee table was covered in cups, ash trays filled with cigarette butts, and a few stray bottles of liquor. Kyle told Dove to stay in the doorway, while he stealthily brushed past the surface, scooping up one of the bottles and tucking it behind his back as he led her back out to the much less crowded dining room.

“Score,” he said, bringing it around his back to show Dove.

“No fucking way,” she laughed, grabbing it from him. It was a mostly full bottle of ruby red cherry schnapps, which she knew she could handle well enough. Equal parts nasty and sweet. It would surely give her an excruciating hangover, but that concern was no more than a fleeting whisper compared to the torrent of recklessness that had taken her over.

She needed to be numbed after seeing Bucky and there was only one way to do that— she brought the bottle to her lips, drinking down as much as she could before pulling it away and gasping for air. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and then licked her lips clean. The burning feeling on her tongue slowly subsided, thanks to the sticky sweet cherry flavor, so she took another pull.

“We should go back out,” Dove said as she screwed the cap back on. She yanked Kyle by his hand, marching him back out to her friends. Her movements became less reserved as the extra alcohol started pumping through her bloodstream. She was shoving through people left and right, but her route was halted by a broad chest standing frozen before her.

“Excuse me, asshole,” she spat, trying to shove past whoever it was in front of her. When her gaze slid up to the towering height before her, her eyes widened.

“Hey, Dovey.” Steve smiled. He took in her appearance, noting how one of her hands was gripping Kyle’s— who Steve hated— and the other was gripping a bottle of alcohol. His smiled faltered, replacing it with a slightly displeased expression.

Dove picked up on the change in his attitude and rolled her eyes. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you about the parties I go to.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Steve said defensively, raising his hands.

“You didn’t have to,” she argued, “your face said it all.”

Steve sighed, shaking his head at her. “Just be smart.” He patted her shoulder. Looking up to give Kyle the terrifying ‘protective big brother’ look, then brushing past them to continue off to wherever he was headed in the first place.

Dove continued on through the house, rushing back outside to their friends. When they walked up, Peter grinned down at the bottle in Dove’s hand, reaching out for it. She passed it to him, laughing while he eagerly took a pull from it and then cringed at the taste.

He gave the bottle back to her and she chugged down some more, feeling pretty tipsy then. Although the reasoning seemed fuzzy with her current state of mind, she leaned against Kyle’s side. It wasn’t even that she liked him, he was just there. Like he was just something to keep her propped up. The touch was was hollow as resting one’s hand on a countertop— but not to him.

The night pressed on and the backyard became more crowded. Circles of people were set allover the grass and paved areas, smoking and drinking through conversations, rushing in and out of the back door. Dove continued to sip of the bottle of schnapps, passing it back and forth with Mj and Peter.

She saw Steve approach the keg just beside their group, bending down to refill a cup. “Are you drinking, Rogers?” she called over, making him look up at her. “Thought you drove tonight.”

He finished filling the cup, walking closer to her. “Are you keeping tabs on me now, Rogers?” he asked, repeating their shared last name back to her.

“No, but I saw your truck out front and you really shouldn’t drink and drive.”

Steve raised his brows, surprised by her responsible logic and a little taken aback by her hypocrisy considering how drunk she seemed. “Well, I appreciate your concern, but this is for Bucky. He said he didn’t want to come over here,” he paused with a weighted silence, looking like there was something on his mind, “did something happen between you two? I feel like he hasn’t been back to the house in a couple days.”

“It’s been three days,” Dove corrected, before she could stop herself. Realizing she sounded a bit too aware of his location she continued, trying to backtrack, “or maybe four— I don’t know.” She shrugged, trying to seem indifferent. “But no, nothing happened out of the ordinary. Just him being a dickhead like always.”

He rolled his eyes, oblivious to her slip up, but hearing the blatant animosity in her tone. “Well, that explains it. I thought you were going to be civil while he was staying with us.”

“Bucky is crashing at your place?” Kyle chimed in, as he’d been listening to the entire conversation silently.

“Uh, yeah,” she said.

“I’m sorry, can you stay out of this?” Steve asked Kyle, looking incredibly irritated by his eavesdropping.

Kyle looked between the two siblings, insulted by the scolding. “I’m standing right here, man. I can’t just turn my ears off,” he chuckled, trying to make light of the remark.

“Well, try,” Steve snapped coldly, before looking back down at Dove. “If you need a ride home, let me know.” He shot one last look at Kyle before walking back to his group of friends.

Dove sighed, running her fingers through her hair. “Sorry about him,” she grumbled, glancing up at Kyle.

“Seems like I’ve got a few different guys after me tonight,” Kyle laughed, nodding to Bucky and Steve, who were talking to each other and occasionally glancing back over to glare at him some more— visibly gossiping about the guy. “You’re a dangerous girl to be seen with.”

Dove noticed how Bucky was wearing an even more infuriated look than before. Steve was speaking to him, but it was easy to see that his words went in one ear and out the other the longer he talked. “Yeah, well like you said before, he’s just protective over me on Steve’s behalf,” she clipped with the remnants of bitterness from when he rejected her, staring at Bucky even while she spoke to Kyle.

He scoffed, turning to face her. He ran his hand down the side of her cheek, over her shoulder, and down her arm. His hand took the bottle out of hers and brought it to his lips. He took a long sip as he stared down at her. “Well, you’re worth taking risks for,” he flirted as he handed the bottle back to her.

His statement hit her as hard as the liquor in her belly. He spoke the words she had been dreaming of hearing come from Bucky’s lips for days. Hoping he would just say ‘fuck it’ and make a move. Forgetting his fear of Steve’s disapproval because he thought that she was worth it.But it never came and she was sure it never would.

Instead, it came from a different set of lips. A set that was much less desirable, sure, but they were there. Glistening red with cherry schnapps, speaking those downright heavenly words.

Just like when she leaned against him, like one would with a countertop, she pressed her lips to his. The action was hollow once more. There was barely a hint of desire in her heart, but she went with it. As if she was testing herself to see if anyone else could replace Bucky. As if she was hoping that kissing someone else could somehow erase how he made her feel.

Kyle’s mouth tasted of sheer intoxication. Sugary sweet liqueur and a hint of weed smoke, just like her own. His tongue was soft, as were his lips. He knew how to kiss and it wasn’t bad per se, just not what she wanted. It was like drinking lukewarm water when you’re parched. It’s adequate, but who would ever choose that over the coldest spring water the world had to offer?

Dove pulled back, sighing as she stared up into Kyle’s eyes. He was grinning widely down at her. More than pleased with her action. “Do you wanna go somewhere private?” he asked.

Before she could fully think it through, she muttered a half-hearted “sure.”

As he led her back towards the house, she had to fight to urge to look over at Bucky once more. Which was probably for the best, considering he had accidentally crushed his plastic cup in his hand without even meaning to when he saw them kiss. Granted that he had never been a very brutish man, something instinctive stirred in him over the sight.

Bucky was protective over Dove— even though he knew he had no right to be— and something about the guy she was with rubbed him the wrong way. Kyle had been a little too handsy with her and even from across the yard of people, Bucky could see that she wasn’t exactly thrilled about it.

And he was right about that. She wasn’t thrilled, but she was also just drunk enough to not care. Kyle led her through the house, with a vise-like grip on her wrist and she toddled along behind him. People were still walking in from the front door, shouting greetings over the blasting music. Bodies were packed together like sardines in a can. The air was smoky and hot as they reached the foyer, right in the most crowded spot of the party.

They made their way to the second floor, having to step over people parked on the stairs. Then walking into the first room at the top of the stairs, which conveniently enough, ended up being a bedroom. Neither one of them knew or even cared who it belonged to. Either Daria’s or her sister’s, they weren’t sure.

Without any attempt of conversation, Kyle pushed Dove down to the bed and moved on top of her, peppering her with kisses. Pecking over her lips, down to her throat. His hands wandered over her body with absolutely no hesitation. With his face in the crook of her neck, she stared up at the ceiling, unable to even provide much of a reaction with how quickly he was moving.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” he muttered against her skin, wafting hot breath over her.

“Mhm,” she hummed, too drunk to even register what she was feeling. The sensations were nice, but she couldn’t stop wishing it was someone else on top of her. Wishing someone else was squeezing at her waist. Someone else’s hands tucking under her top and kneading at her breast. Someone else twisting one of her nipples between his fingers while he licked at her collarbone.

Fuck it. Pretend it’s Bucky, she thought to herself drunkenly. She knew she needed to forget about him. She knew it was pretty shitty of her to imagine someone else. She even knew she probably should’ve told Kyle to stop.

Dove knew all of those things.

But she also knew that she needed someone to cover Bucky’s kisses with their own. She needed to use Kyle as an eraser. She needed to move on. And if she needed to play pretend to get herself in the mood, then so be it.

She scrunched her eyes that much tighter, letting herself give into the fucked up fantasy of Bucky on top of her. Imagining him running his hands under her shirt. Imagining him shoving his tongue into her mouth and grinding his hips into hers.

She moaned softly, arching her back off the mattress, making Kyle grin against her mouth. His freehand ran around the back of her head, pulling her deeper to him. His touch moved further south, rubbing gently between her legs, over the denim of her bellbottoms.

Dove bit his bottom lip, spreading her thighs open for him. “Oh, Bucky,” she sighed into his mouth before she could stop it. Shit.

Kyle’s movements stilled, pulling back from kissing her to look her in the eye. “The fuck did you call me?”

Realizing much too late what she had let slip out, she swallowed hard. Somehow, even through her drunken haze, she came up with a rather passable cover. “I called you baby… do you— do you not like that?”

“You said Bucky,” he argued, getting heated.

“No I didn’t,” she laughed, “you’re just fucked up, you probably just heard me wrong dude. I said baby.”

Kyle shot up from the bed, standing to his feet and crossing his arms. “I know what I heard, Dove.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Are you and Bucky banging? Is that why he was giving me the death stare all night?”

“What? N-no, no. I could never sleep with him.”

“Right, I forgot. You’re a prick tease. You make guys think you’ll let them fuck you, but you never put out.” He gave her a wicked smile. “That’s your thing, right? You see guys as just another game to play.”

Dove felt a lump form in her throat. “That’s not true.”

“It’s not?” he asked with a mocking frown, taking a step forward, tilting his head at her. “Alright, then let’s have sex. Right now.” He smirked, crawling onto the mattress while he spoke, making her scoot back away from him.

“W-what?” she asked, taken aback by his sudden shift in attitude.

“You’ve kept me waiting long enough, don’t you think? Why do you think we stopped talking? Or why I stopped calling? Ya know, I could only finger you so many times before it got boring and I don’t want another goddamn blow job… Let me fuck you. If you weren’t a tease, you’d let me.”

Her lip quivered. “Stop.”

“Or are you really just that? A fucking tease?” Kyle spoke an inch away from her face, looking her deep in the eye. “You pretend you’re too cool for everyone, but you’re really just a scared little virgin.”

“I don’t pretend to be anything,” she lied, knowing he probably had a point.

“Yes you do. You act like you know it all and like you’re so experienced, but you know nothing. You’ve done nothing. You really think a guy like James Barnes would want you?” He was spewing rage now, infuriated from spending over a year trying to pin her down and just when he felt like she was coming around, she moaned another guy’s name.

Dove felt a single tear fall from her eye, but instantly wiped it away, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. Her intoxication was making her emotional and she just couldn’t help it.

He scoffed at her. “He’ll never want you, Dove.”

She gritted her teeth, raising her hand up, and then slapping him hard across the face. She hopped up from the bed, turning back to look at him touching his scalding hot cheek, now pink with a handprint. “Fuck you, Kyle. You have the world’s smallest dick anyways, so good luck finding a girl who will ever want to fuck you.”

Ripping the bedroom door back open, Dove stormed out into the hall, sprinting down the stairs and shoving through anyone that got in her way. She was drunk and on the verge of tears and all she wanted was to go home.

She clumsily rushed out into the backyard. Speed walking straight up to Steve, throwing her arms around his core, and shoving her face into his chest. Completely interrupting his conversation with Sam and surely attracting unwanted attention in the process, but she didn't give a shit. For whatever reason— whether it was the comfort she got from being by her big brother or whatever— she broke down crying.

“What happened?” Steve asked, sounding shocked by her state, but also angry. Somehow figuring things would end up like this, since she was hanging around that loser Kyle and also drinking straight from the bottle like it was water.

Dove let out a stuttering breath, shaking her head against him. “Stevie, I just need to go home.”

Before she could even finish her sentence, a familiar presence rushed up behind her. “What’s going on? Is she okay?” The raspy drawl she knew so well was laced with panic and concern. Bucky’s eyes raced over her body, looking for any sign of harm done.

Steve gave him a silent, confused look, shrugging his shoulder slightly. “We just need to get her home,” he replied solemnly, walking her towards the back door of the house with Bucky trailing behind, shouting hurried explanations and goodbyes to their friends who were calling after them.

“Wait,” Dove sniffled, “I- I can’t leave without Mj and Peter. We rode here together.” She pulled her head away from Steve’s chest, searching for the couple. When she found them standing where they had been all night, she waved them over.

Peter looked her over, frowning at her state with red stained lips, drunk from killing off most of the cherry schnapps. “Y’kay, Dove?”

“Mostly,” she shrugged, “but we’re leaving now, if you want to ride with.” She gestured to the backdoor.

“I can drive the two of you home,” Steve offered, “you’ll have to ride in the bed of my truck though.”

“Yeah, we’ll come with, this guy needs to be cut off anyways,” Mj explained, nodding to Peter. She threw an arm around him, gesturing for Steve to continue inside.

The group of them walked into the house, moving through the partiers. Steve and Bucky were both roughly pushing everyone out of the way that got a little too close to them or Dove. Both of them were much larger than the average person, so it wasn’t hard for the two of them to act as human snow plows for the group.

When they reached the foyer, there was an obnoxiously loud voice coming from the top of the stairs. Hurling insults Dove’s way as he descended towards the group, Kyle stopped just before them.

“Leaving so soon, babe?” he asked rhetorically, as she cowered against Steve’s side, looking at her feet. “Don’t you think we should head back up and finish what we started?” Kyle spoke loudly to attract attention, obviously just trying to embarrass her in front of the entire party.

“Kyle, stop. I’m warning you,” Steve said, glaring down at him.

He laughed, looking between Steve and Dove. “Oh I see, you got big brother to protect you now? Does he know you’re a fucking tease? Because if he did, I’m sure he’d side with me.”

“You say one more fucking word and you’re hittin’ the floor.” Bucky spoke up, clenching his fists by his side. He barely even knew Kyle, but after getting the lowdown from Steve after Dove disappeared with the guy, Bucky hated him. It also didn’t help that he was basically her ex, or that he had his hands all over her the entire night, or that they did whatever upstairs and she came back out crying.

Kyle grinned, looking up at Bucky and Steve, who both towered well over his height. He peeked down at Dove and his smile widened. “This is very incriminating. He’s even standing up for you,” he said, nodding to Bucky.

Bucky’s eyes widened in confusion then faded into realization. Trailing down to Dove, he saw that she was still standing small as ever, practically curled in on herself. He didn’t know what exactly took place between them, but he realized that somehow, he was involved. He looked back to Kyle, finding that his expression was even more smug than before.

He looked Bucky straight in the eye. “Isn’t she such a fucking tease—?” he started, being cut off by a fist slamming into his nose.

Without thinking twice, Bucky had punched Kyle, finishing his sentence for him. His head slammed back and his body fell to the floor. The rings from Bucky’s knuckles left a bloody mess over his face as he laid limp and unmoving. Knocked out cold.

The entire party froze. It felt like an eternity of silence, before a roaring cheer washed over the crowds of partiers. Chanting Bucky’s name in praise and raising their hands to him for high-fives, which he brushed off. Still feeling too enraged to even acknowledge anyone.

Dove had her hand over her mouth as she watched blood dribble from Kyle’s nose, Steve was nodding in satisfaction and incredibly thankful for his best friend’s actions, and Mj was trying to corral a very drunk Peter Parker who was dancing in a circle, joining in on the cheering of Bucky’s name, like his biggest fan.

“Alright, we need to go now,” Bucky said with lingering bits of anger simmering just below his determined words.

They all walked to the truck. Steve opened the back for Mj and Peter, while Dove was helped into the bench seat by Bucky. As much as she wanted to refuse his help, she was too drunk, so she just accepted it silently. He scooted in beside her, looking her over. “Do you want to tell me what happened?” His voice was soft and comforting, not wanting to pressure her.

“Don’t act like you care about me all of the sudden,” she snapped. “Just because you did me a favor and punched Kyle doesn’t mean I’m just going to forget about everything that happened between us.”

He sighed, nodding his head. “I get it. You don’t have to tell me what happened, but I just want to make sure he didn’t try to…” his voice drew off, not even wanting to say what he was thinking, “because if he did, I’ll go back and finish him off.”

Despite how drunk Dove was, she knew what he was thinking. “He didn’t force himself on me or anything,” she clarified, “it was all talk, but I handled it myself. I don’t want you to act like some knight in shining armor or think that I need you. Because I don’t. You’re just as much of a fucking jerk—” Steve slamming the back of the truck shut and rounding the car made her stop mid-rant, which was probably for the best.

Steve pulled open his door and slipped in on the other side of Dove, pushing his key into the ignition and starting up the car. “Okay, I talked to your friends and we’re gonna get you home first and then I’ll drive them back to Peter’s. Mj said she’s going to stay with him for the night in case he gets sick.”

“Thanks, Stevie. I really appreciate you taking care of them too.”

“It’s what I’m here for, Dovey,” he said, petting the top of her head, as he pulled away from the curb and started down the road. “Um, I’m not even sure if I want to know the answer to this, but is something going on between the two of you?” he asked, looking between Dove and Bucky. “I mean, I’m not dumb and it really seemed like Kyle was inferring… something.”

“No,” Dove answered his question easily, having already rehearsed what she was going to say since leaving the party, “Kyle was convinced there was something going on too, since Bucky kept glaring at him tonight. I’ll spare you the details, but he came up with the crazy idea that I had feelings for Bucky or something.”

Bucky bit his lip, trying to stifle a smile as he looked out the window. He was incredibly impressed with Dove’s quick wit most days and the fact that she didn’t lose it even after chugging half a bottle of liquor was shocking. Even as she swayed slightly in her seat and looked through low eyes, she kept her intelligence.

“Thank god,” Steve sighed, relieved by his sister’s response. His shoulders visibly relaxed as he drove. “Ya know, that guy seems like a prick if you ask me,” he spat angrily, eyes set on the road, “I don’t want you hanging around him anymore, Dove.”

She didn’t say anything in response, but nodded. She already despised Kyle and after what happened in that bedroom, there was no way in hell she’d ever speak to him again. Feeling overwhelmed and emotionally exhausted, she leaned back in her seat, trying to slow her breathing.

The cabin of the truck became silent as they drove through the neighborhood, towards the couple of main roads in town. Bucky could feel the warmth from Dove’s thigh achingly close to his. He hadn’t been that close to her in what felt like forever. Even through the smell of liquor on her breath, he could pick up on that familiar sweet citrusy scent on her skin. He didn’t realize until then how much he genuinely missed her presence.

A knock on the back window made him jump, twisting around to see Peter literally pressed against the glass waving at him excitedly. Bucky flashed an awkward smile, giving him a casual salute with a tilted head, before Peter was yanked back by Mj and then was scolded by her for not staying seated. All of this muffled through the glass.

“God, that kid is weird,” Bucky muttered.

“You mean Peter?” Steve asked over Dove’s head, getting a nod from Bucky. “Yeah, he’s a bit of a spaz, but he’s always been a good friend to Dove, so he’s alright in my book. He’s just super drunk right now.”

“Yeah, I can see that. What was he drinking?”

“It was whatever Dove had, I think it was cherry schnapps.”

Bucky cringed and went to reply, but was silenced by a blonde head of hair falling onto his shoulder. He held his breath, shocked by her forward action, in the car with her brother no less. When he leaned forward to give her a warning look, he saw her eyes were closed and her lips were parted slightly. “Dove’s out,” he whispered to Steve.

Steve did a double take, trying to watch where he drove, while taking in her condition. “Shit, sorry, Buck. You can just shove her off if you want.”

“No, it’s— it’s fine.” Bucky shifted in his seat, pulling his arm out from under her, wrapping it around her instead so her cheek was reacting on his chest. He felt his heart race as he moved, realizing the position could be compromising, but he justified it to himself when he considered that he’d be too uncomfortable with her chin digging into his shoulder.

Sure enough, there was another loud knock on the back window, coming from Peter. Bucky whipped his head around holding a finger to his lips, then pointing down to Dove’s sleeping body. Peter’s eyes widened, laughing and clapping excitedly at the way Bucky was holding her in such an affectionate way, before being tugged back into his spot yet again.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill that kid if he wakes Dove up,” Bucky whispered, making Steve laugh.

When they got back to the Rogers’ house, Steve shook Dove awake, whispering that they were home. She blinked her eyes a few times, inhaling deeply through her nose as she took in their location. “Come on, Dovey. I’ll walk you in,” he said.

“I can take her in, pal,” Bucky offered, “that way you can get Cherry Schnapps Boy home.”

Dove frowned at the two of them, her head oscillating back and forth. “Guys chill out, I’m fine. I can make it up to my room on my own.”

“No, Dove it’s really not a big deal—”

“Fuck off, dude. I said I’m fine,” she snapped coldly, cutting Bucky’s words off with a sharp edge to her voice. He hesitated, clenching his jaw in anger, and then bitterly stepped out of the car without another word. She slid out behind him, then immediately started marching to the door with sloppy footfalls.

Steve rolled his eyes at her hostility towards Bucky— considering that he was ridiculously out of the loop in their business and didn’t understand all that he had done to her— but, he didn’t utter a word. Knowing she was drunk and probably still reeling from everything that had occurred at the party.

Once Bucky got back into the car, they watched Dove walk across the front lawn while Peter and Mj were yelling their goodbyes from the bed of the truck. The second she made it inside, they did a quick u-turn to drive the remaining passengers home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, I missed you all so much this week♥️ how are we feeling about this chapter? How much do we hate Kyle for being such a... Kyle? lol
> 
> Shout it out, babes!


	8. Burn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This week has been a lot for me. I've been busy with things around my apartment and work was particularly demanding, so editing was a bit rushed. I apologize if there are any typos.
> 
> If you need me, I'll be drinking a few very strong cocktails and watching the finale of WandaVision.

Dove was hunched over the toilet, puking up the contents of her stomach for the second time since waking up. There wasn’t even anything solid coming out by that point. Just the water that was magically left by her bed— by Steve, she figured. She couldn’t even keep down the aspirin that was sitting beside the glass.

Once the waves of nausea had mostly subsided, she crawled over to the counter and clumsily stood to her feet. Regret hit her the instant she decided to look in the mirror. Her insanely thick, platinum hair looked somehow even messier than usual. Her makeup from the night before was smeared around her eyes in dark streaks. Guess she had forgotten to take it off before passing out. She honestly couldn’t remember.

Every part of her body ached and felt feverish, yet also freezing at the same time.

After brushing her teeth and washing her face, she went back to her room and wrapped her hair up into something between a ponytail and bun. She finally climbed back into bed, tugging her covers over her head and letting out a lengthy sigh.

Foggy memories from the night before were echoing through her mind. She remembered almost everything up until halfway through the car ride— albeit the images were foggy. She figured the alcohol had finally caught up with her and she had just blacked out then, but everything before that was fairly clear. She remembered seeing Bucky and Steve, and that damned bottle of liqueur, and Kyle, and of course, the punch. All of it whirled around in her mind, making her headache that much more painful.

She groaned, smacking her hands over her face at the memory of moaning Bucky’s name to Kyle. And then he yelled at her in front of the whole party. And then Bucky had the audacity to punch him. No matter how much he deserved it, it was sure to cause a tidal wave of gossip around town—which was the last thing Dove needed. She was mortified.

She grumbled curses under her breath, vowing to never drink again, even though she knew that was probably a lie. But that’s just what people did. They swore they’d never even think of drinking again and as if time itself erased the memory of how bad hangovers can be, by the next weekend they’re getting trashed once again. Then starting the cycle over.

A soft knock at her door was followed by Steve’s muffled voice coming from the other side. “Hey Dovey, you up yet?”

She huffed out a breath, flicking her covers off her head. “Come in,” she yelled in a sing-song voice, but it sounded like more of a croak.

He pushed the door open, giving her a sorry smile. “Are you dying?”

“Yep.”

“Figured. Sugary drinks will do that to ya,” he confirmed as he walked over and sat on the edge of her bed. “Do you want me to grab you anything? Food? Water?”

She cringed. “No food. Not yet at least, but it’d be cool if you could refill my water and get me more aspirin. I tried to take the ones you left me, but they didn’t exactly stay in my stomach…”

“I didn’t get you the aspirin. Or the water.” He shook his head. “Bucky did.”

“Why was _Bucky_ in my room?” she asked with wide eyes.

Steve chuckled, raising his brows. “Well, he uh— he was pretty worried about you last night. He wanted to make sure you were okay and insisted we checked on you once we got back from dropping your friends off. When we peeked in here, you were out cold, but he said he wanted to make sure you woke up to water so he got you a glass and then some aspirin along with it. Pretty nice of him, huh?”

“Yeah,” Dove agreed thoughtfully, staring off in consideration, “very nice.”

She couldn’t help the small glimmer of hope she felt. Maybe he _did_ really like her. Maybe the act was him trying to tell her that. Or maybe it was just him treating her like Steve would. Like a big brother, just trying to make up for her irresponsibility. She felt her heart drop at the thought. “Is he still here? I should probably thank him for that, along with punching Kyle… and also maybe apologize for being such a mess,” she laughed.

“He left pretty early this morning and I don’t know when he’ll be back,” Steve answered her question. She nodded sadly at his response, looking down to her lap. “Well, I’m gonna refill your water and grab you some more aspirin, okay?” He patted her knee as he stood from the mattress and turned to leave.

“Wait, Stevie?” she called after him, making him look back to face her with an inquisitive stare. “Will you please not mention anything to mom and dad? I don’t want them freaking out.”

“Your secret is safe with me,” he said, placing his hand over his heart to swear it.

“And also, I’m really sorry for last night. It’s all pretty spotty, but I’m sure I was being a handful. It means a lot that you were there for me.”

He smiled down at her. “Always, Dovey.”

The remainder of Dove’s day was spent in bed, with Steve basically nursing her back to health. He made them lunch and they ate together up in her room once she was finally able to keep down her water and aspirin. They sat on her floor while they ate peanut butter and jellies, feeling almost like kids again, laughing about memories from when they were young.

She didn’t realize how much she genuinely missed her brother. It was difficult when he first went away to college, but eventually she was just used to it. Only seeing him for holidays and a few months in the summer became the norm. It was nice though, having a free flowing conversation with him, not feeling like she had to censor herself since their parents weren’t around.

They had a lot more in common than either of them realized. The little details that they had both forgotten about the other over the years. They hadn’t really talked like that since they were young. Maybe even all the way back in elementary school. Two two if them were always separated by their selected activities growing up. Steve with his boy scouts and sports and Dove with her dance classes— although, she always wanted to play sports with the boys— and endless supply of books.

They didn’t expect how much they’d sincerely appreciate the other, the older they got.

The best part though, was that Steve seemed to actually listen to Dove about her writing. For the first time, he was actually absorbing what she was saying and surprisingly finding it interesting. He knew that she was wicked smart, but not to the extent she had grown to become over the years. Even after his three years in college-level English classes, he was still finding himself a bit bewildered as she spoke, no matter how hard he tried to keep up.

When their parents got home from their workdays, Steve went to the kitchen to help cook and Dove hopped in the shower, trying to rid her skin of the lingering scent of alcohol.

The four of them ate through a relatively peaceful meal. Dove sat in silence like she usually did, but for once, Steve was consistently trying to pull her into the conversation. Directing questions her way or bringing up fond memories they all shared. Things felt happy and normal and maybe even _healthy_ for the first time in a long time.

But no matter how much good the day held, Dove couldn’t help thinking of Bucky just about every five minutes. He didn’t get back to the house until late. She would’ve missed him altogether if she hadn’t gotten up to go to the bathroom, finding him hiking up the stairs as she started to sneak back to her bedroom. He looked her over and gave her a silent wave, continuing on to the guest room.

“Hey, Bucky?” Dove whispered over to him. He reluctantly stopped walking, looking over his shoulder at her with a blank expression. “Um, thanks for last night. For… _handling_ Kyle and then for the water. It meant a lot after everything that happened. And I’m really sorry if I was rude or anything. I wasn’t, uh— wasn’t really in the right state of mind,” she chuckled awkwardly, trying to find some kind of humor in it, hoping he’d return the joking attitude.

Bucky nodded without a word, keeping his expression detached and as controlled as he could.

She chewed her lip, staring at him in the dim light of the hallway for a moment. There was so much more she wanted to say and yet she had no idea where or even _how_ to start. The added pressure of having his ridiculously handsome face staring pointedly at her, waiting for her to spit out whatever was on the tip of her tongue was making it that much harder. She settled for a clumsy, “well, goodnight,” before rushing back to her room.

She closed her door behind herself, scrunching her face in regret. Self-directed irritation crashed through her. Why did he make her fall to pieces like that? Why did he make her feel so weak? She had liked guys before, but she _never_ _ever_ felt like that. Like she couldn’t breathe when they looked at her or like she’d die if she couldn’t have them. Like she did with Bucky.

Flicking on her lamp, Dove sat down onto her window seat. She dug behind her pillow to find her journal, flicking through the worn, ink-covered pages to find a blank one, so she could get down her thoughts before they faded away in her sleep.

She filled a page in no time. Her hand racing over the lines, scrawling out confused and slightly contradictory statements and questions.

_I can’t stand thinking you hate me._

_Why do you make me feel like this?_

_Sometimes I think I hate you. But then I see you and I’m reminded that I don’t._

_Why do you avoid me? Is it because you do think of me as often as I think of you? Or was it all in my head?_

_Do you even see how much I burn for you?_

As if spurred on by the convivial dinner the night before, Sarah woke up to make an all out feast of a breakfast. She filled the table with every kind of breakfast food one could imagine. Spending her whole morning cooking for the family, since the moment her eyes opened.

She eagerly rushed to everyone’s bedroom doors, knocking loudly on them, shouting that breakfast was ready. No matter how initially unenthusiastic they were to get up, the smells wafting from the kitchen urged them to follow instructions.

Dove took her sweet time getting up, since her eyes were open a few hours earlier than she ever _considered_ getting out of bed. She walked down the stairs to the kitchen. Her bare feet smacked on the hardwood floor as she let out huge yawns, scratching her tangled mane of hair. Her t-shirt was one of Steve’s hand-me-downs. The cotton fabric was draped off one of her shoulders, stretched from years of wear. It was so long, it hung mid-thigh on her like a dress over her sleep shorts.

When she finally rounded the corner into the kitchen, she saw that everyone was already sitting around the huge display of food covering the table. Her eyes apathetically widened, still too sleepy to react to much around her. Even the presence of Bucky in his usual seat across from hers wasn’t enough to spur any kind of emotion on, besides exhausted indifference.

Bucky was feeling the same way as her, after being up so late stressing out about their interaction in the hall much like she was. But the sight of her alone made him feel like he took a shot of espresso so strong, it made his teeth ache. He always loved how she looked in the morning. Her slovenly appearance was so endearing to him.

She collapsed into her chair, letting out another yawn, and then following suit, piling up her plate with her mom’s cooking. Grabbing decent portions of pancakes and fruit, then drowning everything in maple syrup. Bucky watched her do it with raised brows, then smiling subtly to himself.

“So, no beach trip this weekend?” he asked in his raspy voice, that much deeper with sleep, looking over at Sarah and Joseph. Although he was just making polite conversation, he was also hoping to distract himself from from the adorably disheveled girl across from him.

“Not this weekend,” Sarah shook her head, “I have to cover a shift at the hospital tomorrow and Joseph figured he should scout out some new construction locations, so we’re staying home. But it also gave me the chance to make everyone breakfast for once.”

“Well, I’m stoked you did. I barely have time for a piece of toast before work most days.” Steve grinned, gesturing to the massive pile of food on his plate.

Sarah reached over, squeezing his hand. “Gotta make sure my boy is well fed.”

Dove rolled her eyes at the cheesy exchange between her mom and brother, too cranky to hear such niceties so early in the morning. She fed herself bites with one hand, while the other kept her head propped up. She started blankly out the window while she chewed her food. Tuning out the slow roll of the conversation amongst everyone else at the table. She watched as the sun started to peek over the trees in the backyard, casting long shadows over the lawn.

Missing her mouth with the fork, out of sheer neglect to her actions, she dropped part of a strawberry onto her lap. She picked it back up and popped it into her mouth with her fingers, then licking them clean of the syrup. When she looked back up, she saw that Bucky was smiling at her clumsy moment. “You tired today?” he asked in his husky morning voice.

Dove mirrored his happy expression, feeling that much more alert and eager with his attention on her. She desperately wanted to reply with a snappy ‘you done avoiding me?’, but to keep her demure behavior in front of her parents and to not raise Steve’s suspicion again, she silently nodded.

“Me too,” Bucky said kindly, before taking a bite of his bacon.

She looked down to her food, gathering a bite for herself as an excuse to escape his intoxicating attention for even a moment. He said five words to her. Five _fucking_ words and she felt like she couldn’t breathe.

Although she was thankful for the politeness on his part, it somehow stung at the same time. She didn’t want the empty comforts of civility. She wanted passion and desire from him. She wanted to feel like they were on fire. Burning for the other. His friendly attitude was like a splash of cold water in contrast, dousing whatever flame she had in her belly for him.

Dove had no idea Bucky was feeling the exact same way. His polite words were bitter on his tongue no matter how sweet they might’ve sounded. He had to force them out with a smile to match, when all he could really think about when he looked at her was how badly he wanted to throw her over his shoulder and take her up to the guest room. To rip that tattered t-shirt off her body and see where those tan lines on her shoulder started. To kiss her until her lips were bruised with the shape of his.

“So, I was thinking, Dove,” Joseph started, cutting Bucky’s reverie short, leaving him feeling guilty for even imagining those things with her parents so close by, “we could head over to the RCC offices today and make our payments.”

At the exact same time, Dove, Bucky, and Steve all felt their stomachs drop. They all knew what neither Joseph nor Sarah did— that Dove had absolutely no plans of going to RCC. She had been planning on telling her parents eventually, but that conversation was literally being forced with her dad’s offer.

Taking a huge breath, she looked over to Steve for comfort. He gave her an encouraging nod to go ahead. She looked back to her dad, who was staring back at her confused by the odd shift in tension. “Um, I won’t be… going to school there.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m not going to RCC,” she reiterated, fighting to keep her eye contact with her dad.

Joseph crossed his arms, his brows pinching together. “So… what, you want to apply for a state school instead? Dove, it’s a little late to start pushing this again. I already told you, you’re not going anywhere. You’ve already committed—”

“I _withdrew_ from RCC,” she blurted out, silencing him. She looked down to her lap, feeling like she was going to be sick, but she continued. “Last week, I called and withdrew. I don’t want to go to college. The only reason I even wanted to go to school was to leave Roseworth, but if I’m stuck here anyways, I’d rather spend my time working, so I can save up enough money to move away.” She spoke fast, trying to get out as much as she could before the berating would surely start in.

She was met with silence, so she looked back up to her dad. His face was pulled into a cruel scowl. Looking like he was about to strangle her with his bare hands. “We’ve discussed this. You’re not going _anywhere,_ ” he boomed, slamming his fist to the table so roughly, everyone jumped.

Dove’s expression faded from scared to angry in an instant, completely fed up with his treatment of her. She raised her voice right back— for once— not backing down from him. “I’ll do what I want. I’m an adult and you can’t control me anymore.”

Joseph stood from his seat so roughly, the chair fell back into the floor. “Do _not_ raise your fucking voice at me, Dove. You’re still my daughter and I’m not letting you move away. You will stay here and go to school and that’s _final,_ ” he shouted.

She felt her chin quiver, trying to hold back tears, but she found her resolve and snapped back, jumping up from her own seat. Like his words started a fire in her, she was blazing from the inside out. “You think you can force me to stay here, but you can’t. You can’t trap me here forever. I refuse to end up like everyone else in this town. Living boring, uninspiring lives,” she yelled, gesturing with her hands as she spoke. “I’ve lived here for my _whole life_ and I can’t do it anymore.” Her voice started cracking, becoming more emotional the longer she spoke. Her passion for the issue was clearly taking over her response.

“Well, you better get over it because you’re _staying_ ,” Joseph shouted right back, speaking through his teeth. “I’ll drag your ungrateful ass down to RCC myself if I have to.”

“Dad, you never listen to _anything_ I say,” she cried, “and you don’t even care enough to try and understand me. You never even asked me what I wanted to do after high school. You just decided for me. I want to be a writer and move to a city that has more to offer than _fucking_ _Roseworth_ does. I’m done waiting around here and I’m scared if I stay any longer, I’ll end up like _you_.” Dove knew her words were harsh, but she couldn’t stop them before they came out. She had been holding all of that in for years and it was like she finally opened the floodgates.

Her dad stood glaring her down. _Seething_. His breathing was slow and labored, his fists clenched by his sides. Completely at a loss of what to say and deeply offended by her words.

Dove heard sniffling coming from her side and when she looked down, she saw her mom was dabbing away tears with a napkin while her breaths stuttered. “Mom, I’m so sorry.”

Sarah waved a hand at her, brushing off her concerns, but Dove still felt horrible for upsetting her. She stood there, while everyone sat in silence. Her dad still staring her down, both Bucky and Steve looking up at her in shock. Embarrassed and overwhelmed by the situation, she stormed out of the room, leaving the four of them at the table.

The sound of her heavy footfalls faded, shortly followed by the sound of her bedroom door slamming shut. “Fucking ungrateful brat,” Joesph muttered under his breath as he sat back down in his seat.

“Do you think that was maybe an extreme reaction?” Sarah asked angrily blinking through her tears.

He grunted in response, shoveling a bite of his eggs into his mouth as he shook his head. “That girl has been testing me since the day she was born. She’s got too much spirit in her,” he said, talking through his mouthful of food, “comes from your side of the family.”

“You're probably right,” she huffed coldly, dabbing her cheeks with a napkin. “But her stubbornness comes from her _father_.”

“I didn’t raise her to talk to me like that,” Joesph argued back. “She’s lost her damn mind. She forgets she’s just a girl. She doesn’t know anything about the real world.” Sarah said nothing in return, simply internalizing her disapproval. Never wanting to make matters worse for anyone.

They continued eating at the table in uncomfortable silence. Bucky and Steve were downright pissed on Dove’s behalf, they just knew better than to try to fight the formidable Joseph Rogers on anything. Knowing all too well how fucking scary he was when he was mad.

Once the table was cleared and the dishes were done, they all parted ways for their respective plans for the day. As Bucky walked by Dove’s room with Steve, he could barely make out muffled sounds of sniffling over her loud music. She was playing what sounded like… Led Zeppelin? He turned to look at Steve in confusion, who then gave him a knowing look right back. “ _Tangerine_ ,” he clarified, rolling his eyes. “She listens to it whenever she’s sad.”

Bucky’s brows quirked as he took in the information. “Of course she does,” he chuckled. It was so like Dove to be dramatic enough to have a go-to song when she was sad. Regardless, he found it charming. Like everything else she did. And if there was going to be a song to listen to when you’re sad— might as well be a good one. Like _Tangerine_. “Should you go talk to her or should I?” he whispered.

“If you think you’re up to it, that’s all you, pal,” Steve said, raising his hands as if to be rid of the situation, “I gotta get changed for work.”

Bucky nodded. Figuring he should give her some more time to calm down, he took his time getting ready for the day. He showered and got dressed. Then he even made himself a cup of coffee and sat outside for a bit to read the paper.

As much as he tried to pretend he was simply trying to enjoy his Saturday morning, he really was just stalling before he went to talk to Dove.

He skimmed over articles with a distracted mind. Half-focused on reading, but he was really absorbed in his own thoughts. He continued to think over how to approach her, unsure if it was even his place after everything that had happened between them. She seemed to have forgiven him for his idiotic transgressions, maybe not fully, but they seemed to be headed in the right direction.

Perhaps helping her through this situation would be the final push to be back on better terms. Regardless of how dangerous it was for them to be near each other, Bucky knew he at least owed her that much. If not for his own benefit of having her company, at least to aid in her emotional state.

It had been a few hours by then, so he finally went back upstairs, figuring she was over her initial upset. He stood outside of her door, listening for a second. He didn’t hear… well _anything_ actually. Not the sounds of her crying or even her music.

Throwing caution to the wind, he knocked on her door. Waiting a few seconds before cracking it open to find Dove lying on her side in her window seat, facing away from him. “Hey, it’s me,” he muttered. When there was no answer, he added on an awkward, “you sleeping?”

She grunted, rolling over to face him, answering his question. Her eyes were puffy and her nose was red. He gave her a pitied half-smile, wearing his puppy dog eyes she saw so often. “Are you okay?”

“Not really.”

He nodded, sighing to himself. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” she repeated.

Bucky chuckled slightly at her attitude, leaning against her doorframe and crossing his arms over his chest. “Well, if you don’t want to talk about it, how about we go do something? Just to get your mind off things. We could go for a drive,” he posed.

Dove hesitated, feeling embarrassed of her outburst at breakfast and also unsure if it was wise to spend time with him. But with the way he was giving her that boyish smile of his, she was melting. She couldn’t resist him. And he was right, it was a good idea to get her mind off things. “Okay,” she agreed, sitting up from her seat. “I’ll get changed and meet you down stairs.”

“ _There’s_ my girl.” He clapped his hands together, turning to leave her to it. It wasn’t until he stepped out into the hallway, that he realized what he had said. He cringed at his choice of words, hoping she didn’t think twice about it.

But she did. Because of course she fucking did. Bucky Barnes just called her ‘his girl’. No matter how casual his intentions were, those words held some weight.

Dove turned pink in the cheeks, letting out an excited squeal as she jumped to her feet. She rushed to make herself as presentable as possible, as quickly as possible. She got dressed, then sprinted to the bathroom to splash some cold water over her face, hoping to reduce some of the puffiness around her eyes. After she brushed her teeth and half-brushed her hair— basically just running the comb through the ends of her blonde locks a couple times— she scurried downstairs.

Bucky was waiting on the couch, keys in hand. Mindlessly chewing on his lip while he stared off into space. He wasn’t sure if asking her to hangout alone was the right move, but she had endured a rough few days and he needed to do whatever he could. Even if it wasn’t much.

When he saw her standing by the door, looking pretty as ever and showing plenty of leg in her short red skirt, he rose from his spot and grinned. “Let’s get you out of here, honey,” he said as he reached over, opening the front door for her.

They walked out to his car that was parked against the curb, both of them hopping inside and buckling themselves up. “So, where are we going?” she asked.

“Nowhere, I just figured I’d drive and see where we end up,” Bucky answered casually as he dug into the center console of his car. He pulled out a cassette tape and pushed it into the stereo, then drove away from the house.

The two of them sat in silence for a while, listening to the music that played from the speakers of his car. Dove used the hand crank to roll down her window, then leaned over to rest her head against the ledge. Her eyes watched the town she knew so well flying past her. The breeze cooled her skin, in contrast to the heat from the sun resting high at its midday peak. Not a single cloud was covering the bright blue sky.

She tried to keep her mind blank, focusing on the random things she saw around the inner part of town. Noticing the grocery store had a painter outside, adding a new Independence Day mural to the windows. Red, white, and blue designs covered the glass. There was even a firework stand on the opposite side of the flowers they always kept out front.

There were people wandering around town and riding bikes or rollerskating, enjoying their weekend in the sun. The environment completely opposed the sadness Dove felt creeping up on her.

There was an odd nostalgic feeling that came along with being sad while it was so sunny. The emotion felt so misplaced, she was reminiscing for simpler times. Back when she used to blindly enjoy her summers. Back when her only concerns were about trivial things like having enough change when an ice cream truck came by or getting grass stains on a new pair of shorts.

Shifting in her seat, she looked up at Bucky. “Did… um, did my parents say anything else after I left the table?” She tilted her head, waiting for his response.

He was startled by her sudden inquiry, turning down the music while he kept a hand on the wheel. “Nothing of importance.” He was hoping to spare her the details of her dad’s harsh comments, but he wasn’t lying. The things her dad was saying weren’t important nor were they true.

She nodded, looking ahead to see that they were leaving town, driving into the heavily wooded areas that surrounded Roseworth for miles and miles. The road was winding the further out they got, asphalt curving through the towering evergreens. It was almost enough to make her smile, taking in the view around them. Almost. But her mind was still too occupied to let it happen.

“Do you think what I said was out of line?” she pushed.

Bucky hummed, bobbing his head back and forth as he considered. “It might not have been the _kindest_ thing you’ve ever said to them, but it’s how you feel and I think it’s important to tell them those things. You deserve to be heard, Dove. Even if you have to make them listen.”

“I still feel like a fuck-up. I mean, I made my mom _cry_. I hate seeing her so upset like that.”

“I don’t think it was just you that upset her.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your dad, he—” Bucky sighed, combing through his hair with his free hand, “you know I really respect your dad and I don’t mean to speak out of turn, but he definitely has a temper.”

Dove scoffed. “ _That’s_ putting it lightly. The man is fifty percent cigarettes, fifty percent anger.”

He laughed, nodding at her painfully accurate description of her dad. “Well, I think he just needs to be more understanding of your ambition.”

“Of my _what_?” she asked, surprised by his wording.

He gave her a quick double take, turning back to the road. “Your ambition,” he repeated. “Is that weird to say?” he asked worriedly, feeling like he might’ve said something to upset her. “You can do anything you set your mind to, Dove. I-I think you’re amazing,” he added, hoping to explain whatever poor choice of words he might’ve accidentally used.

She frowned, realizing that no one had ever seen her how Bucky seemed to. Everyone talked about her desires like they were the thoughts of a madwoman. Like she was nothing, but a rebellious dreamer. Never using words like ‘ambitious’ when they spoke of her goals. Never even taking her seriously.

But Bucky did. He believed in her and even supported her. And he called her… _amazing_.

Feeling overwhelmed, Dove stayed gawking at him. Wearing a pout as she stared at him in wonder. She rested her hand on the center console, leaning across the space between their seats and pressing a kiss to his cheek. He was startled by the touch of her lips to his skin, holding his breath at the momentary contact. She sat back in her seat, smiling to herself. “Thank you for saying that. Sometimes I feel like no one really understands me.”

He let a smile grow over his features as he peeked down at her. “Of course I understand you, Little Wing.”

For the first time, she grinned at the nickname, as if it had a sort of reminiscent tone to it. Although it was the result of Bucky’s pestering when she was young, it started to trigger a dreamy feeling that made her think of the halcyon days of her childhood. “Well, it means a lot that you actually listen to me. I mean, no one else even takes me seriously… I’m pretty sure Steve thinks I’m crazy.”

Bucky laughed at that, shaking his head. “That’s not true, he talks about you like you’re a goddamn genius. I think he just doesn’t even register half of what you say when you talk. It’s like you’re speaking a different language to the guy.”

“I guess.” She shrugged.

“You know I’m right. Do you really think a jock like Steve could name three great authors off the top of his head?” He looked over at Dove, raising his brows quizzically, making her giggle. “Don’t get me wrong, he’s my best friend, but the guy spends his time in college literally _throwing_ _footballs_ and teachers give him A's just because he can’t play if his GPA drops.”

“Okay, okay, you do have a point, I guess,” she agreed. “Ya know, the two of us actually had a good time together yesterday. I woke up super hungover after the party and Steve just sat with me and took care of me basically all day. I was just… nice to talk freely and not have our parents there to put pressure on either of us.”

Bucky grinned. “Steve loves you a lot, Dove. I don’t think you even _realize_ how much. You’ll always be his baby sister and all he wants is for you to be happy.”

“I get it, I get it,” she said, shifting in her seat to stare out the window. Watching the green blurs of trees whipping past them as her mind wandered. “Do you think he believed me when I said nothing was going on between us?”

He didn’t respond right away, thinking to himself. “I’m not sure,” he awkwardly replied. Feeling his palms start to sweat where he gripped his steering wheel.

“Sorry… we don’t have to talk about that,” she rushed out, hearing the apprehension in his voice.

He shook his head. “No, uh it’s fine. I’m really not sure though. Even if he doesn’t believe us, I don’t think he’d even want to know the truth.”

“And what _is_ the truth?”

Bucky swallowed hard, contemplating the question. “I don’t really know.”

She chewed her lip, dissatisfied with her response. She wished she could read his mind. Just to see if he felt even half of what she felt for him. Just to be sure she hadn’t imagined everything. The air was tense for a moment as the two of their minds raced, in parallel as always.

“Why did you want to check up on me?” she questioned, breaking the silence. “After the party, when you guys got back to the house. Steve said that you wanted to check on me… and you left me water… and aspirin.”

Bucky clenched his jaw, despising how comfortable he felt with the girl. He knew he could easily bare his soul to her without a second thought if he were to finally let go. Tell her his deepest, darkest secrets with a gentle request from her lips, which was why he kept so quiet, because he knew if he started— he’d never stop. He had been holding back for so long with her and every time she was around, the walls he had built seemed to be crumbling.

“To be frank, after everything that happened with Kyle at the party, I just wanted to take care of you in whatever way I could. And I hadn’t seen you in days and I guess I— I missed you.” His voice had an edge, hating that he was being so open after all of his efforts to cut things off with her, along with having to think of Kyle. “What even happened with him? When you snuck off with him?” he asked, hoping to shift the attention off of himself, like he was so good at.

Dove hesitated, feeling her cheeks blazing at the memory and Bucky’s scrutinizing stare was making it so much worse. She took a breath, scrunching her eyes shut as she forced out the words. “When he and I were upstairs, instead of _his_ name, I said… _yours_.” The pause that followed her confession was heavy. She swore it felt like an entire hour of silence. Expecting to hear a laugh, she finally snuck a peek over to Bucky, who wasn’t laughing at all. He was staring blankly at the road, nodding thoughtfully. She could see a smile hiding at the corners of his naturally curled lips.

Before he could say anything, she blurted out some attempt at an explanation, but it came off like more panicked rambling. “I-I was just super trashed and it didn’t really mean anything, I promise. It— it was just me being dumb. But he got really mad at me and—”

“Dove it’s fine,” he chuckled, reassuring her before she could continue. “But now I get why he was being such an ass to me, along with you.” She nodded, feeling her shoulders start to relax. “Such a fucking pig,” he muttered. “Trying to embarrass you like that and— and being handsy all night…” he added on the last bit under his breath to himself.

His words were barely audible, but just loud enough that Dove could hear them. Her mouth tilted into a smirk. “You didn’t like that I was with him, did you?”

Bucky’s brows snapped together, realizing how he must’ve sounded. How poorly he concealed his anger over having to watch them together all night. The entire time spent with an ache in his gut, thinking that should’ve been _him_ she was pressed against. He would’ve taken better care of her. He would’ve made sure she wasn’t getting too drunk or pressuring her to sneak off to do god knows what.

“Let’s just say that punch was more than satisfying,” he admitted, answering her question.

She couldn’t help that inner biological response to being protected. As much of a strong, independent feminist she was, there was just something about a man being possessive over her and wanting to defend her that sent warmth straight between her legs. Might as well have been foreplay with the way he was talking. “So you were jealous?” Her voice sounded airy and lost with how oddly turned on she was by the idea.

It must’ve come off more teasing because Bucky responded with a snappy“don’t even _try_ to make me feel embarrassed. You literally moaned my name when you were in bed with another guy.” He bit his lip after he spoke, beaming at the thought of it.

“Oh my god, shut up,” she whined, covering her face when she felt blood rush to her cheeks, subsiding the lust she felt. “I swear, you better not hold that over my head, Bucky.”

“I plan to,” he said simply, staring at the road, “I think it’s hilarious.”

“I hate you,” she laughed, somehow still finding humor even though his pestering. “You’re always such a dick to me.”

Bucky flashed her his smile. “No, I’m being honest. I don’t sugar coat with you, honey. You just have no self control when it comes to me, but hey, I don’t blame you. I know I’m pretty irresistible,” he smarted.

“You think so?”

“I _know_ so.”

“Well, I don’t think you have a lot of self control with me either.” Dove smirked.

“There’s nothing for me to control. I told you already, you’re just my best friend’s baby sister,” he casually tossed out— like he’d rehearsed with himself a hundred times.

She frowned slightly at that harsh break in the middle of one of their mental ping pong games that she loved, but it only increased her desire to prove him wrong. She was sure that at least _some_ part of him wanted her, no matter how small or how much he tried to deny it.

Unsure of what came over her, she decided to just go with it blindly. She knew it could end with rejection, but best case scenario, she’d finally know what was going on in that fortress of a brain Bucky had. She unbuckled her seatbelt and shifted in her seat. He did a double take, looking down at her in shock. “Dove, keep that on. We’re in a _moving_ car.”

“Well, keep it steady for me then,” she told him, in the flirtiest way she could.

Leaning over to his seat, she rested a hand on his upper thigh, staring at him as his eyes flicked between her and the road. “What are you doing?”

“Just proving a point,” Dove breezed. Moving closer to his ear as she spoke. She hunched down, kissing his neck. When she heard his breath stutter, she smiled against him for a moment, then continued to press her lips to him. She moved her free hand behind his head and gathered some of his hair in her fingers, manipulating him, so she could continue to bombard his throat with kisses and soft bites.

Trailing her way up behind his ear and licking his lobe gently, she whispered to him, “I know you want me, Bucky. I know how hard is it for you to control yourself around me. I know how much you think about me.”

He groaned at her words. His eyes fluttered, struggling to keep his focus on the winding, forest hemmed road. “F _-fuck_ …”

“Is that what you want? You wanna _fuck_ me?” She spoke between her kisses. Her lips leaving behind a glistening trail as she coasted down to his collarbone. Her hand on his thigh started to slowly wander between his legs.

Bucky’s eyes rolled back a smidge, growing hard between his thighs at the feeling of her hand on him. “Honey, you g-gotta stop… I’m gonna fuckin’ cra— crash.”

She giggled against him, licking a stripe up the side of his jaw and rubbing her hand over his shockingly large erection one last time, before pulling off and plopping back into her seat. Casually buckling herself in as if she weren’t just all over him.

“Wha—” he started, upset that she actually stopped.

“You told me to stop,” Dove laughed, shrugging. Preening herself on her achievement. She was incredibly satisfied with the reaction she got from him. She was right, he _did_ want her. Maybe even more than she had initially hoped.

He grunted in irritation, tugging on his pants to accommodate for his length. Feeling moisture seeping through the fabric from the head of him. _Fuck, he wanted her so bad._ She had barely touched him and he was already desperate for more.

“You okay there?” she giggled, watching how he was staring harshly at the road and trying to adjust himself.

“Shut up, you proved your point,” Bucky snapped, glaring at the road, trying to clear his thoughts and rid himself of his erection. He was pissed. Pissed at how blatant his desire for her was. Pissed that he had asked her to hang out in the first place. Pissed that he wanted so much more of her. All of the seething frustration, directed at himself.

He considered his next move, calculating as he stared at the road with a vicious scowl, as if it had done something unforgivable, then sighed to himself. After checking his mirrors, he pulled over to a small section of dirt just on the side of the road. This time, he unbuckled himself, then undid Dove’s for her.

Without a word, he grabbed the sides of her face and pulled her lips to his. Kissing her roughly. Dipping his tongue into her mouth. Telling her about every last bit of his frustration with his actions.

She caught up quickly, kissing him back to match his fervor. Hurried and rough and desperate. Continuing their conversation from before with their lips. Both of their hands wandered over the other’s body. She rested a hand over his bicep, while the other landed on the center of his chest, over the chain that was exposed over the neckline of his collared shirt.

Bucky’s hands instantly went to her waist, sliding down her short skirt to her thighs, kneading into the supple flesh. She could feel the cold metal from his rings on her legs, immediately reminding her of who the large hands belonged to. She wanted to feel them sliding up and up, under her skirt, but they stayed painfully still, just squeezing at her thighs.

He ripped back from her lips, diving into her neck, suckling at her skin, inhaling her scent. Grapefruit and honey, like always. “I do want you,” he admitted with a husky voice, giving a quick kiss to her throat as his hand moved to her breast, “we want each other… You don’t need to waste your time with guys like Kyle, trying to forget me. We both know you can’t.”

Dove nodded, trembling and panting from the overwhelming sensation of him kissing her along with his words. “I know I c-can’t.”

“Thing is, I can’t forget you either,” Bucky whispered gruffly into her ear, tracing the shell of it with the tip of his tongue. “You’re all— all I think about.” He pulled her back to his lips, keeping a tight grip on her wherever he could. Her hands ran down his torso, feeling his muscles tensing under her fingertips and his chest expanding with breath.

They both felt like they were on fire. Pressing scorching kisses to the others flushed skin. Burning so hot for the other, they were practically piles of ash by the time they parted.

He moved back in his seat, staring at her. Her hair was mussed, her eyes glazed over from being touched with such ardor. Both of them panting, both of them with kiss stained lips, both of them only half-slaked. Wanting so much more, but they felt like they’d never stop if they even tried.

The silence was weighted. The only sounds being the music coming from the stereo, turned down low enough they could hear the other’s breathing. “We should probably go home,” he said decidedly, breaking the tension.

“Y-yeah, let’s go.” Dove swallowed, shifting in her seat while trying to fight back a smile. “Oh, and can we get something to eat on the way? I didn’t really get to… finish breakfast,” she laughed in self-mockery.

Bucky gave her a knowing look. “Of course, Little Wing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let the sneaking around... commence.
> 
> And woah what's that? Bucky being sorta, kinda open about his feelings? Groundbreaking.


	9. Cotton Candy and Bloody Noses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I've said this before, but this is probably one of my favorite chapters in this story. Little bit of fluff, little bit of steaminess.

Ever since what Dove started referring to as ‘The Drive’ in her journal, Bucky seemed to pay no mind to his hesitations about her.

He’d find any reason he could to do small things for her. Whether it was discreetly pulling out her chair at dinner or leaving a cup of coffee out for her in the morning or offering her rides when she went to hang out with her friends— he’d do it.

Slowly, they picked up a routine of sorts. They’d spend their mornings together at the small table in the backyard before parting ways to go about their respective plans. Dove had no idea where Bucky was always rushing off to after their time together, since her curiosity ended with thoughts of her own social life, but regardless, she was happy they always started their days together.

A few times when Dove had slept in, she would always rush outside apologizing like she had an obligation to be there. Behaving like she was late for a class or something, because of how much she genuinely valued the time spent with him. She’d drop what she called her ‘things’ down on the table. Her tattered journal, two black pens, whatever novel she was reading that day, sunglasses, and usually made another trip inside for some kind of snack and drink. Whether is was orange slices or crackers or cherries with a pitcher of water or iced tea, she always brought out enough for them to share.

Their table was always covered in his sketches and her writing, with their snacks and drinks placed unceremoniously between them. The radio always sat at the edge, turned down low enough for them to focus on their projects or just talk with each other.

It had been a week straight of the same thing every morning. They both looked forward to it every night before bed, planning out what they wanted to quiz the other about. Excited to pick each other’s brains apart, playing their never ending game of mental ping pong.

Although they were together frequently, the time was always appropriate. There was the occasional flirty comment, or coded conversation, but they were careful to keep everyone’s suspicions at bay. More specifically, not wanting to set _Steve_ off again. They simply allowed the household to believe they were developing a mutual respect and maybe even a friendship; that adulthood had done them both some good and they were putting aside those once bitter sentiments about the other.

The whole thing _was_ driving them a little mad though, not being able to touch the other how they wanted. It had been seven long days since they went on the drive and had gotten a taste of what they desired. And every moment spent together since, it was all they could think about. Bucky swore, Dove was purposely wearing the least amount of clothing she could without warranting any objections from her dad— not that they were talking for that matter, since Joseph had been flat out ignoring her existence since their fight.

And sure enough, there she was with her sugary smile, wearing one of her tiny ensembles: a knit halter top and a pair of denim shorts. Sprinting barefoot out the back door, into the hot sunlight, over the grass and towards the table. Her hands were full with a bowl of freshly washed strawberries and blueberries, a pitcher of ice water, and two glasses tucked under her arm. “Morning,” she breezed.

Bucky smiled at her, eyes raking over her as she jogged across the yard. “Morning?” he questioned, looking at his watch. “It’s almost noon.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she said, setting down their snacks on the table as he brushed aside some of his papers to make room. “I went to the fair with Mj again last night and I didn’t get home until late.”

“Oh yeah,” he slowly nodded, remembering. “It’s the fourth of July today, I totally forgot.”

“Hence the festive snacks, Buck,” she clarified with her hand pointed down to the red and blue fruit.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Ya know, I never thought you’d be the sort of girl to be so into patriotism like this.”

“Oh, I’m _not_. Every year, I’m reminded of how this country was founded by a bunch of silver-spoon, white slave owners that didn’t want to pay taxes… but, I _do_ love fireworks.”

Bucky outright laughed at that, the skin at the corners of his eyes scrunching as he flashed his flawless set of teeth. “That sounds like the Dove I know.”

She beamed at his reaction to her words. Elated over the fact that he found humor in her fairly harsh critique of America’s birthday, rather than the offended retort she might’ve received from her family.She liked seeing him laugh. And she liked it even more when she was the one that caused it. “Um, I’m gonna go grab my things,” she told him, sprinting back across the lawn, into the house.

Bucky watched her run back across the yard and then do a little spin on the ball of her foot, making her long platinum hair flow around her. He felt embarrassingly overwhelmed by how much he had grown to cherish her. Often catching himself glowing with happiness, just watching her _exist_. But her sunshiny ways were so contagious, he couldn’t help it.

Once she disappeared into the house, he poured each of them a glass of ice water and then popped a blueberry into his mouth as he looked back down to his work. His mind was calculating as he measured out lines on his papers. Thinking a thousand miles a minute as he tried to map out what he pictured in his head.

Dove walked back out and dropped her things down onto the table same as always, with a clatter. Her slightly clumsy movement never failed to make Bucky smirk, even when he was deep in focus.

She tied up her hair and rested her sunglasses on the top of her head. Then, she tucked one of her pens behind her ear, and chewed on the other mindlessly while she flicked through her novel to find where she left had off. Her eyes raced across the page and she’d occasionally underline things or make messy notes on her journal that rested beside her.

It was the same as everyday. The small process she did just to sit and work. Bucky had it memorized. From the way she’d twist her hair into a bun, gathering her thick golden locks with her hand while the other pulled the hair tie from her wrist and tugged it around, wrapping it twice; down to the way she gripped her book, with her pinky and thumb over the front of the pages to hold it open, while the three middle fingers rested along the spine to support it.

These small things that he found to be so important made Bucky realize that his feelings for her were much deeper than he initially thought. He didn’t just want to sleep with her, he wanted to _be_ with her. He had to have her all for himself or he felt like he’d die.

A small noise of excitement escaped Dove’s lips. She slammed down her book to scribble out some kind of epiphanic note in her journal. The sudden movement caught Bucky’s attention. “What are you reading today, Dove?”

She held a finger to him as she finished up her writing, pressing her tongue to the corner of her mouth in focus. Dotting a period at the end of her sentence, she looked up at him. “Ariel,” she said simply. When he gave her a confused look, she clarified with a name he most likely knew, “Sylvia Plath.”

He gave her a slow now, recognizing the name. Reaching out, he plucked the little red book from the table, looking over the cover. “Poetry?”

“Mhm,” Dove confirmed, snatching it back from his hand.

“I don’t understand poetry,” he admitted, “it’s too abstract for me. I never have any idea what the hell the writer is trying to say.” 

She laughed, staring back down at the small text. “Well, I love it.”

“Why’s that?”

Dove sighed, trying to put her finger on just one reason why. Subconsciously reverting to her usual practice of smuggling information into the fewest amount of words as possible, as to not bore Bucky. When she found her response, she gazed up at him. “Every word has meaning. _Literally_. Every single one is important and placed where it is for a specific reason. It’s up to the reader to interpret and decipher, almost like a code.”

He blinked at her expressionlessly. Not uttering a single word for what felt like almost too long. Staring silently at her, deep in thought, before he finally spoke a thoughtful, “I like the way you see the world.”

She swallowed hard, blushing at the genuine compliment from him. She shifted in her seat as she cleared her throat and looked back down to her book, drawing a small star next to the paragraph she originally found so inspiring. “So, what are you working on?” she asked, trying to cut the heavy silence.

“A building.”

She rolled her eyes. “Well no shit. What’s it for?”

“It’s a house,” Bucky said simply, pointing down to his draft.

She pursed her lips, getting irritated with his short responses. She was slowly learning how much of a fortress Bucky was. _Like_ _Fort fucking Knox_. Keeping a charming, open facade, yet all too good at dodging genuine questions. Anything that might make him seem like a real person with real emotions and real aspirations.

She’d often find herself trying to break through those barriers he had built up around himself. Trying to pick the lock with her wit, but always coming up short.

Bucky was slick that way, although it was a concept Dove never understood. She’d share just about anything with anyone if they spared the time to ask her. The juxtaposition was especially irritating to her, considering he seemed to love picking her brain to pieces any chance he got.

She was beginning to feel like the whole ‘getting to know each other’ thing was a little one sided, so she pushed him. “You’ve spent so much time on it, but are you ever gonna build it or do you just plan on working on it forever?” Her words were a bit edgier than she wanted to convey, but maybe that was for the best. She admittedly _was_ irritated with him.

His brows pinched together, insulted by her insinuation. The muscle in his jaw twitched as he stared her down. “Do you plan on publishing what you’re writing or do you just plan on working on it forever?” Nodding down to her journal sitting beside her, throwing her own words back in her face.

“Touché,” she sighed, understanding that she’d respond with something like ‘it’s just for fun’ or ‘I’m just practicing’ or ‘maybe one day’, making her answer her own question. She ate a blueberry while she let her mind run over how he was always able to deflect the subject back to her so smoothly. Without even thinking twice, he was able to outplay her.

“Ya know, you should talk to my dad about your work. He might be able to get you some pull with the construction company,” she added kindly, in some lame attempt to appear like she wasn’t sour with the way he beat her yet again in one of their games.

Bucky looked up at her, surprised she even considered his career, let alone wanted to help him be successful. “Maybe I will.” He smiled.

Dove fought off a grin, trying to hide how pleased she was with herself.

She felt so content just to sit like that with him. Like she could do it forever. She wished they could be frozen in time, sitting right where they were. At the creaky old table, under the shade of the huge oak tree. Its leaves skittering in the soft breeze. The overgrown garden surrounding the pair in greenery, wafting the smell of grass and flowers into the hot air. Both of them picking at the berries sitting in the bowl between them. The radio at the edge of the table playing so quietly, it was barely audible.

All those small things that just screamed ‘summer’. Dove was sure those little details would forever be engrained in her mind and would always remind her of these mornings spent with Bucky.

“So, do you know what you’re doing tonight?” she asked.

Bucky set down his compass, scrunching his lips as he considered. “I didn’t even realize what day it was until you told me, so I’m not sure. Steve and I will probably just go over to the bar or maybe even just barbecue and have a few beers here. Depends on how exhausted he is after his shift.”

“You don’t like going to the carnival?”

“I feel like I’m too old for that now.”

“Dude, you’re only three years older than me,” Dove argued, taking a bite of a strawberry and then flicking the stem into the bushes behind her. “Actually, my birthday is coming up next month, so technically only _two_ years older than me.” Licking her lips from the sticky red juice as she spoke.

Bucky nodded. “That’s right, your birthday is in August.”

Her one-track mind made her ignore his comment, too focused on her point. “But seriously, you should consider going to the carnival,” she pressed. Reaching her foot over and kicking his under the table, then running it over his ankle. Toying with him.

He looked down to his sketches for a moment, before his blue eyes flicked up to meet hers. “Yeah?”

“Mhmm,” Dove hummed in a sing-song tune, becoming pink in the cheeks.

“Why should I?” Bucky tilted his head at her, narrowing his eyes a smidge as he started to nudge his shoe back against her foot.

“You know why,” she said casually. Speaking in the code they so often did— both of them fluent in it by then. Neither of them said much out loud, but their words were always saturated with meaning and innuendo. Both of them were overly cautious with how they spoke just in case there were any listening ears. Especially then, since both Sarah and Joseph were wandering around the house, off work for the holiday.

Bucky’s lips quirked with the start of a smile. Staring at her in that intense way he did. Taking in her features. Her freckle-covered button nose, her big eyes, her pouty lips, her blonde hair wrapped up messily with a couple stray pieces dangling in front of her eyes.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he replied easily, understanding that she was wanting to see him at the carnival, even if to only get a minute of time together or just see the other in passing— it’d be better than nothing.

They had grown fond of times like this. When no one else in the world could decipher what they were saying on a surface level, while they played footsie under the table. Touching, while they talked like they weren’t.

Dove wasn’t even sure what it meant, or even what he wanted from her. Whether it was a summer dalliance or a fleeting crush. But what she did know was that she could feel her heartbeat in her fingertips as she stared at him from across the table.

Breaking away from the smoldering eye contact, she muttered a quick, “well, maybe I’ll see you there then,” feigning a breezy tone as she looked back down to her book, tucking her feet back under her chair, away from Bucky’s.

The two of them sat just like that for a couple more hours. Mostly sitting in silence as they focused on what sat before them. They stayed put until the ice in the pitcher had melted and all the condensation had dripped from the sides, creating a small puddle on the table. Until all the berries were gone, leaving nothing but purple and red stains on the porcelain bowl. Until they felt heat seeping through the canopy of leaves overhead and sweat started to bead on their hairlines.

“I should probably go shower,” Dove said, snapping her book shut and gathering her things, “but maybe I’ll see you later?”

Bucky nodded. “Later.” As if to simultaneously confirm her request and also dismiss her. Uttering the word so flippantly.

A gruff, slapdash response and she was somehow weak at the knees. Spinning around, she bit her lip, trying to stifle her pure elation. There really was nothing quite like a new crush.

Still reeling from the tender moment, Dove showered and got ready for the carnival, taking her sweet time. She pulled on a white cotton tank top, but wore jeans instead of shorts— having learned her lesson after being eaten alive by mosquitos the night before. She even did her makeup, putting in a bit of extra effort for the holiday.

After spending a couple hours between her room and the bathroom, she finally made her way back downstairs, finding her family busily preparing dinner. Her mom was cutting up vegetables on the kitchen counter, while her dad was walking in from the backyard to grab a platter for the cooked beef patties and hotdogs. When Dove looked out the window, she saw Bucky and Steve helping at the grill. She frowned at the sight, realizing that they were probably staying in for the evening.

“Hi, Lovey,” Sarah cooed, “are you heading out right now or are you eating with us?”

“I was just about to leave, I’ll eat something at the carnival” she said. “Also, I’ll probably be home late again.”

Joseph grunted to himself, making the cigarette between his lips jump as he stood back up from digging through the cabinet. He was refusing to speak to Dove, but still made his disapproval over her going out again known. He had been wanting to ground her after their argument, but that stopped working on her the second she turned eighteen the year before, so he wasn’t even going to try.

Sarah shot him a scolding look, before glancing back to Dove. “Have fun and be safe. We’ll be staying in, so call if you need anything, okay?”

She nodded, looking out the window once more at the guys. “Um, are they staying in tonight too?” Nodding towards them, trying to not sound too interested.

“I think I overheard them talking about going to the carnival after we eat, so maybe you’ll see them there.” Sarah smiled.

“Yeah maybe,” Dove said, trying to fight back the huge grin that threatened to slip out. When she heard a faint honking coming from out front, she looked over her shoulder. “I think my rides here, so I’ll see you tomorrow.” She turned to walk down the hall, stopping in the foyer to slip on her sneakers, then busting out the front door and slamming it behind her.

She ran across the front lawn, hopping into the back seat and greeting Mj and Peter, thanking him for driving as they took off down the road.

With the sun setting, the sky was fading from a hot pink to a soft lavender. The entire town was bustling with activity. Sidewalks were covered in kids jumping through fountains of colorful flares, screaming excitedly. The air was lukewarm and bitter with smoke, from the buildup of barbecues and fireworks being set off all over the neighborhood.

When they pulled up to the carnival, the parking lot was packed. They had to drive around twice to finally find a spot, due to the fact that they lived in the most boring place in the world and everyone seemed to flock to any event they could find.

The three of them approached the front gates, splurging on the pricier wristbands— rather than a roll of tickets— for unlimited rides and games for the night, wanting to make the absolute most of it.

The last two nights Dove and Mj had gone didn’t come close to the crowds that were pulled out for the closing night. It seemed like everyone in town had rushed over the second they finished stuffing their faces with burgers and hotdogs at their barbecues.

Rickety, run-down rides that had probably barely passed their inspections were set up all over the sprawling field, with food carts and game booths smattered between. Everything was covered in colorful paint and flashing neon lights.

The sounds of screaming coming from the rides, tinkering of ancient metal, and cheesy carnival music were overpowered by the occasional firework that was set off into the sky, illuminating the dark navy canvas and everything below it. There were kids sprinting around with sparklers and then sobbing loudly when they ran out. Couples were snuggled up at every corner, sharing popcorn or sucking down sugary sodas. Groups of friends were walking arm in arm onto the next nauseating ride, on the verge of puking up their junk food dinners.

Dove led the way as always, rushing her friends straight to the biggest rollercoaster, then over to the bumper cars, finally to the Tilt-a-Whirl— with Peter sitting out for the latter of course thanks to his oh-so-traumatic motion sickness the year before.

When the girls walked back down from the ride, Peter suggested they eat something, so they made their way through the crowds over to the food carts. After they were stocked up with their deliciously unhealthy haul, they wandered over to sit at one of the few open tables.

As they sat eating, Dove’s eyes scanned the crowds for any sign of Bucky or Steve… or _any_ of their friends for that matter. Her head whipped around as she blindly fed herself chunks of her cotton candy, occasionally plucking a fry from the communal basket and taking sips of her lemonade, hoping to catch a familiar face. Looking for any sign that Bucky actually showed up.

“Dove!” Peter shouted, catching her attention. When she looked over at him, she realized he must’ve been saying her name for a while with how exasperated he looked. “Are you okay?” he asked, looking confused with how immersed she was in her search.

“I’m fine,” she said, her voice almost an octave higher, trying to sound casual. She added a shrug for effect, but it came off as an afterthought— since it was. Resting her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand, she propped her head up as she looked around again, slower this time to appear like it wasn’t in search of anyone or anything in particular.

Mj and Peter shared a look before glancing back at her. “Dove, you really seem like you’re looking for something.”

“Or _someone,_ ” Mj added under her breath.

Dove quickly met her gaze, feeling her eyes widen. “Excuse me?”

Mj hesitated, taking a breath. “You and Bucky have something going on.”

“Wha— what? Dude, absolutely not. That’s Steve’s best friend, I could never do that—”

“Yes you could. And you are,” Mj argued in her monotone, self-assured voice, “it’s not hard to figure it out. I mean, you never complain about him anymore, Peter said the two of you showed up at the diner together last weekend, you’ve been spending an odd amount of time at home while he just so happens to be staying with you, and if that weren’t enough to convince me— the night of the party sure was.”

Dove wasn’t surprised Mj had figured it out. The girl was so damn quiet and talked so rarely that she was able to take in literally everything around her. She noticed it all, down to the smallest details. And she wasn’t wrong. Despite that, Dove continued to play dumb. “I don’t know what your talking about.”

“Peter might’ve been too drunk to remember, but I barely drank the night of Daria’s party.”

“… and?” Dove asked, looking quickly between the two of them. She wiped her clammy hands on her jeans under the table’s surface.

“I’m not dumb. I know most people didn’t get what Kyle was saying since he was so fucked up and was babbling and slurring like an idiot, but I could easily put two and two together. He found out you’re into Bucky and he got mad,” Mj stared at her expectantly. “Right? I’m right aren’t I?”

And she _was_ right. Although she didn’t quite know all the details, her conclusion was correct. Dove shrugged in response, grabbing a pinch from her fluffy ball of cotton candy and shoving it in her mouth.

“Okay, okay, well how about when you fell asleep on him in the car and he had his arm around you the whole ride home? And then he offered to walk you inside? These are irrefutable facts and you’re guilty.”

Dove’s eyes widened at the information dump from Mj. She didn’t remember any of that last bit, but she understood then that they were caught red handed. “ _Fuck dude,_ ” she groaned, running her fingers through her hair, finally breaking from her interrogation, “okay fine. _Yes_. There’s something going on,” she admitted in a whisper.

Mj crossed her arms over her chest, smiling. Pleased with herself. While Peter sat with his jaw agape, eyes blown wide while he stared at Dove. “I told you, Peter,” Mj said to him, “I’m rarely wrong about these kinds of things.”

“No way, Dove! That is so cool! I mean, I didn’t really remember much of that night, so when Mj told me, I didn’t know if she was just messing with me or not,” Peter said, speaking much too fast like always. “This makes you like, a _legend_. I mean, you’re dating _Bucky Barnes._ ”

Dove shushed him, glaring with panicked eyes. “ _No_. _Not_ _dating_. Not even close. We’ve just… kissed a few times and we hang out a lot, but we haven’t even really talked about it. I feel like he probably just wants to hook up and that’s it.”

Peter lost his excitement at that, pouting. “But do you have feelings for him?”

She considered for a second. That was the million dollar question she had been avoiding thinking on too much. The attraction was painfully obvious and she knew that she liked him as a person, but the deep emotions were an aspect she was desperately avoiding. It was like if she actually admitted how she really felt to herself, it would make it too real. She wouldn’t be able to live in that lighthearted ‘will they, won’t they’ dynamic she had grown to love.

Thing was, the more she thought about how she saw Bucky, the more she realized it wasn’t just physical. Her feelings for him were deeper than she cared to admit. Much deeper.

“I don’t know if I’d say _feelings_ , but it’s kind of a crush I guess,” Dove finally spoke, making light of how she really felt. Calling it a crush was a disgusting understatement. It wasn’t some trivial, fleeting attraction. He ignited a flame in her. At first, every time he was around it was like she could feel embers kissing her skin, but now, the fire was inside of her. Destroying her from the inside out.

Peter still smiled at the word ‘crush’ coming from her. He couldn’t hide how excited he was for them. He loved Dove and she deserved to be with someone as smart and kind as she was. He couldn’t even imagine a match better for her than Bucky. Part of him wondered why it hadn’t happened for them before and that was when he remembered what Dove said about Steve. “Wait, so Steve doesn’t know, does he?”

Dove shook her head. “No and please don’t tell him— or anyone for that matter. We all know how rumors spread like wildfires here,” she said, looking over her shoulder as if to be sure no one was listening even then.

“We swear,” Mj reassured her, then peeked over to her side, “right Peter?” she asked, raising a brow to him.

Peter silently made a gesture of zipping his lips, pinching them between his teeth, making all of them laugh. His smile was gone in a flash though, as his eyes locked on something over Dove’s head. “Um, you might wanna turn around, Dove.”

She frowned in confusion, before taking a sip of her lemonade and casually glancing behind herself. Her eyes searched the poorly lit crowds for only a moment before landing on Steve. He was clutching his chest and laughing loudly at something his friend Sam said to him. Just beside them stood Bucky, staring straight back at Dove with his intense eyes. The curl of his lips would’ve been invisible if it weren’t for the colorful lights washing over his features rhythmically from a nearby ride. A flirty wink was sent her way, so quick she nearly missed it.

Dove felt her heart thud in her chest, that same way it always did whenever she saw him unannounced. Even when she hoped or even _expected_ see him, there was something about him appearing that made her hyperaware of the way her blood was shot with adrenaline. It could almost be considered a fight or flight response.

She smiled back at him, then turned back ahead to find Mj and Peter grinning amusedly at her. “You guys are gonna date. I’m calling it,” Mj said decidedly, looking down after watching the silent exchange, swirling the contents of her slushy around with her straw.

“Yeah seriously, I mean he’s _still_ staring at you,” Peter agreed, still looking over at him.

“Peter, _stop staring_ at him,” Dove snapped, “I don’t want them to come over here.”

“Why? Weren’t you looking for him a minute ago?” Not even meeting her gaze as he spoke, keeping his chin tilted to look over her head.

Dove pinched the bridge of her nose, exasperated with Peter’s naivety. “Yes. But he’s with _Steve_. I don’t want him to catch onto what’s going on, so it’s stressful being around them at the same time. Just stop staring, because if they see you—”

“Too late,” Mj chirped, cutting Dove off, staring behind her.

Peter only stopped staring at the group then, looking at Dove instead. “Sorry,” he said, wincing, ready for her to yell at him.

Just as she was about to start in, she felt someone ruffling her hair. “Hey, Dovey,” Steve said.

She peeked up behind herself, seeing that Steve, Bucky, and Sam were all standing over her. Each one of them tall and broad as ever. She gulped, twisting in her seat to fully face them. “Uh, hi there.”

“Hey guys,” Peter excitedly greeted the group of men from across the table, albeit unprompted. Earning himself a smile from Steve and a half-hearted wave from Bucky. “My names Peter Parker,” he added, introducing himself to Sam. He gave a grunt in response, crossing his arms over his chest, despising Peter already.

“How’s it going, Peter?” Steve asked, trying to make up for the major lack of manners coming from his friends.

“Really good. Ya know, I— I wanted to thank you for the ride last weekend.”

Steve chuckled to himself, nodding his head. Remembering how hilariously drunk he was that night. “Yeah, no worries kid.” He reached down and stole a fry from the basket, then popped it into his mouth.

Since the guys had walked up, Bucky had been avoiding eye contact with Dove, trying to keep locked between Steve and Peter while they spoke. When he finally let himself sneak a glance at her, she was already staring up at him with her big eyes.

The neon lights reflecting off of them looked like colorful stars dancing around in the pitch black color of her pupils. Like they held an entire galaxy. _Beautiful_ , he thought. She always looked beautiful, but with the extra makeup she wore, he was having a hell of a time ripping his eyes from hers.

Finally succeeding in his endeavors, Bucky cleared his throat, looking back over at Steve. Signaling Dove to follow suit, she shifted to her brother just as he spoke.

“Well, what are you up to? Besides filling yourselves up with junk food?”

“I think we’re actually gonna play some games for a bit,” Dove said, looking back at her friends, “you guys ready to go?” Giving them an urgent look with her eyes silently begging them to get her the fuck out of there.

“Actually, I think Peter and I were gonna go on the ferris wheel together,” Mj started, showing absolutely no sign of deceit, although that’s exactly what it was, “but maybe you can hang out with these guys until we’re done.”

Peter gave her a confused look, before catching on slowly, aided by a nudge from under the table. “ _Right_ , yeah. The ferris wheel.”

“Or I could just come with you guys,” Dove argued.

“Only two to a seat.” Mj shrugged, standing from her spot to gather all of their garbageand toss it before she could be argued with. “Sorry,” she called over.

Dove shot her an annoyed look, earning herself a small smile in return. Looking to Peter for help, he simply followed Mj’s lead and stood from the table, mouthing a guilty ‘sorry’ to Dove before walking off.

Although, spending time with Bucky was exactly what she wanted, she hadn’t expected it to actually happen. Truly, she had absolutely no idea what she was hoping _would_ happen. She just wanted to see him, even in passing.

“You can hang with us until they’re done, Dovey,” Steve offered, patting her shoulder. “We were gonna go grab another round of beers and then maybe you could show us some of those games you wanted to play.”

She swallowed hard, looking up at them. “Okay,” she muttered, unenthusiastically standing from her seat with the rest of her cotton candy.

Trailing behind the line of three huge men, she felt like a child. Bucky stood right in front of her, occasionally glancing back at her as they wove through the thick crowds covering the carnival grounds.

When he discreetly reached his hand back behind him, she smiled down at it and eagerly took it in hers, feeling her pulse speed up at the contact. She wasn’t sure they’d ever even held hands before. Despite everything they’d already done together, the action felt so intimate. The way his oversized hand engulfed hers. The way his strong fingers wrapped over hers. His hands were slightly calloused, but soft at the same time. And warm. They were so warm, the cold metal of his ever-present rings were a stark opposition.

As Steve led the line of them over to the beer garden, Bucky released Dove’s hand since it was a lot less busy than it was near the rides, giving them no cover.

The beer garden was the only area of the event Dove had ever avoided, since there was no use for her to step foot in there. It was where all of the adults huddled together, around the wooden picnic tables. Smoking and drinking away their night while their kids were off causing chaos elsewhere on the grounds. The air smelt of hops and tobacco from the moment they stepped into the area— different from the funnel cake and buttery popcorn smell the rest of the carnival had.

Steve shouted a quick, “keep an eye on Dove,” to Bucky as he and Sam walked off to get in line at one of the booths, leaving the two of them standing awkwardly together.

Dove pulled off a bit of her cotton candy, shoving the pink fluff into her mouth, then letting it dissolve into crunchy sugar grains on her tongue as she stared out at the space. Pretending to people watch for a moment out of the sudden nerves she felt. The fireworks in the distance were becoming more and more frequent since the night had become dark, sending soft washes of color over everything in sight.

“Well? Are you gonna thank me for making it?” Bucky asked, talking over the booming and crackling coming from the sky.

She looked up at him, tilting her head in annoyance, yet still trying to fight back a smile. “Thank you,” she forced out before eating the last of her cotton candy. “Did it take a lot of convincing to get Steve to come?” she asked, between licking off her lips.

“You have no idea,” Bucky groaned, “he really wanted to stay home, so I told him I’d pay for all of his beers tonight _and_ that I’d drive. So, you owe me big time, Little Wing.” He pointed a finger at her, raising his eyebrows.

“I can pay you back if you want.”

He scrunched his face at the offer, looking offended that she’d even say that. “I don’t want your _money_.”

Dove bit her lip, staring up at him with that same starry-eyed look from before. “What _do_ you want then?”

He contemplated the innuendo for a moment, trying to muster up some kind of witty response, but he couldn’t fight off the straightforward one that sat so rudely on the tip of his tongue. “You,” he said simply. Unashamed and unfiltered with his tone.

Heat went straight to her cheeks at the single word he uttered. Shocked that he wasn’t playing their usual game of codes anymore. He said _exactly_ what he was thinking, rather than some devilish response like ‘you know what I want’ or ‘anything you have to offer’. He said exactly what he wanted and it caught her off guard.

“Y— yeah?” was all she could force out. Embarrassing herself in the process of reacting so clumsily.

“Yeah,” Bucky confirmed, taking a purposeful step towards her, making her crane her neck to look up at him. “I _really_ fucking do,” he spoke slowly, in his raspy drawl.

Dove blinked up at him, her lips parted slightly in shock. “Okay,” she huffed. The word could be interpreted in two very different ways: either something as innocent as saying that she heard what he said, to something as dangerous as saying that he could have her.

She meant the latter and Bucky could tell.

His lips curled at her response. Staring at her as he planned his next move. Making some kind of internal decision, he tilted his head to look over the crowds, seeing that Steve and Sam were still waiting towards the end of the line. The sight alone solidified his intentions.

Bucky grabbed Dove by the wrist, dragging her between two booths. Back to the space between the beer garden and the rides, where there were a few stray generators and trailers that belonged to the breweries. She had to practically run to keep up with his rushed, long strides. She giggled quietly as they moved. Keeping her eyes on the ground to make sure she didn’t trip in the dark.

He halted suddenly, turning around to face her. When she looked up at him, what she saw in his features made it clear this wasn’t like any other time they had been together. He had a desperate look in his eyes as they hungrily raked over her, his jaw was clenched, and his nostrils flared as he breathed heavily. He looked like he wanted to _fucking_ _devour_ her.

And he did. He couldn’t help it anymore. She looked downright otherworldly with the colorful lights of the carnival and the fireworks over head, making her platinum hair look all different hues of the rainbow and her eyes sparkling. He took her in, becoming more and more overwhelmed with her beauty the longer he stared.

A momentary internal conflict raged through him. The same one he fought nearly every damn time he was near the girl. Muttering a rushed “ _fuck it,_ ” to himself, Bucky’s hands scooped up under her ass, lifting her into the air. He spun them around and pushed her roughly against the back of a trailer. Her legs wrapped around his waist and she grabbed at the collar of his shirt, tugging him into a kiss.

Dove could barely keep up with the intensity of it all. The kiss was like an uncontrollable inferno. The force of it surely would’ve pushed her head back, but with the cold metal directly behind her, she had no where to go. Not that she wanted to. No. She would’ve stayed just like that until he day she died. In Bucky’s arms, his hands on her ass, his lips on hers.

They both knew how risky it was, but they couldn’t stop. Almost every resident of Roseworth was just on the other side of a few other trailers and booths. Including _Steve_. Both Dove and Bucky knew that all too well, but the moment was too good to let go to waste. After all those mornings spent together while trying to remain friendly to any watchful eyes— when all they wanted was to rip the other apart— they were fucking _desperate_.

Bucky slipped his tongue into her mouth, sweeping it over hers. Demonstrating how much he needed her. Invading her space while she let him, all too willingly.

Holding Dove with one arm, keeping her pinned, his free hand wandered. Sliding up her shirt, grabbing at her breast. He groaned when he felt that she wasn’t wearing a bra. He felt himself growing hard at the feeling of her nipple between his fingers, so he ground his hips into her.

She moaned into his mouth, feeling warmth fluttering between her thighs where they were rubbing against each other. She ran her fingers into his hair to kiss him deeper, when she felt her nose start to run.

Dove ripped back from him, cutting the kiss off. She dabbed her nose with the back of her hand and when she looked down she saw that there were a few drops of blood left behind. She looked back up at Bucky, who was staring at her in shock as blood continued to rush from her nose. “ _Shit_ , honey. You’re bleeding,” he observed, setting her down to her feet.

She pinched the tip of her nose, shaking her head. “ _Obviously_.”

Bucky sighed, hooking an arm around her back. “Come on.” He walked them back out to the crowded seating area. They rushed up to one of the booths, bypassing a line in the process as waiting customers angrily shouted at them for cutting.

“Can I get some napkins here and maybe some ice?” Bucky yelled into the booth, gesturing at Dove’s hand that was cupping her face, a small dribble of blood pouring from between her fingers.

They were promptly handed the items requested and he ushered her over to an open table, sitting down beside her on the bench as she continued to pinch her nose, leaning forward to keep her clothes clean. He handed her a few napkins to wipe up her face, while he set the ice cubes into the remaining sheets, creating a makeshift ice pack. Once her face was clean, he passed it off to her.

Dove pressed it tight to her face, hoping the combination of pressure and ice would help stop the bleeding.

“Did I bump ya, honey?” he asked, eyeing her.

“No, I don’t think so.” Her voice was nasally from pinching her nose and keeping her head drooped down. She rose back up and pulled the ice from her nose, looking him in the eye with a drained smile. “How’s my face?” she asked as she turned her head back and forth for him to look it over.

“Beautiful,” Bucky flirted, making her roll her eyes and press the ice to her nose once more. “It’s clean,” he clarified, taking her question seriously. “Your shirt on the other hand… not so much,” he said, pointing to the two drops of deep red blood on her otherwise perfectly white cotton tank top.

Dove looked down at the stain, chuckling in self-mockery. Bucky must’ve thought she was an absolute disaster. It seemed like every time they were together, he was taking care of her. “I’m sorry I’m such a fuck up.”

“You’re not a fuck up. Maybe a little reckless and clumsy, but I don’t mind cleaning up after you. I could always use a little more chaos in my life,” he teased her. He didn’t say it out loud, but he liked to feel needed. Especially by Dove. He’d help her with just about anything in the world. He got a special kind of kick out of guiding her. Whatever that was, he couldn’t be sure yet.

“What the _hell_ happened?” came a voice a few yards ahead of them. Steve started running over, clutching a beer in each hand with Sam trailing just behind, trying to keep up. He looked over Dove’s state and then over to Bucky. “Why is she always getting hurt around you?”

“Bucky punched me,” she explained dryly with a shrug. Both guys looked between her and Bucky in absolute horrified shock. “ _Kidding_. Kidding,” she added, looking over to Bucky who was glaring back at her, completely unamused. “Jeez, do none of you know how to take a joke?”

Steve rolled his eyes, shifting his weight. “Not funny,” he chided her with raised brows.

Dove giggled at her own joke anyways. “I’m not hurt, Stevie. I just got a nosebleed,” she reassured him, gesturing to her nose as she spoke.

He calmed down at that, squatting down in front of her. “Probably this dry heat, huh? I remember you used to get them all the time in the summer when we were kids.”

She shrugged. “I don’t know what caused it, but maybe yeah.” She pulled away the ice, looking down to find that she had stopped bleeding. Relieved, she dabbed her nose once more for good measure and then walked over to toss the napkins into the garbage can.

“Are you sure you’re okay to stay? We can get you home if you want,” Steve offered as she sat back down across from him at the table.

“No, I feel totally fine, it was just a small nosebleed. Also, I really want to enjoy the night.” She eyed the two beers he held. “And it looks like you do too,” she laughed, nodding down to them.

“Actually,” he slid one over to her, “it’s for you kiddo.”

Dove beamed back at him in elated surprise. “Thanks.” She eagerly took it from him, washing down the slight taste of blood on her tongue with the hoppy foam. She looked up at Bucky sitting beside her, finding him smiling down at her. “You didn’t want a beer?”

“ _Driving_ , remember?”

She nodded, internally taken aback by his response. Not only was Bucky paying for Steve’s drinks and driving them, but he was also staying completely sober the whole time— just so he could see _her_. She felt affection blooming in her chest at the revelation.

Taking a huge risk with her older brother sitting right across the table, Dove sneakily slipped her hand under the surface, grabbing Bucky’s, and giving it a squeeze. When she felt him affectionately run a thumb over her fingers, she brought her cup to her lips to hide the huge smile that threatened to expose her.

After the three of them had finished their beers, they all headed off to the games, as promised.

“Alright, little Rogers,” Sam started, throwing an arm over Dove’s shoulders as they walked, “you, me, water guns. Winner buys the other a turkey leg.”

Dove cringed, saying “I don’t eat meat,” at the exact same time Bucky said “she doesn’t eat meat.” They looked at each other immediately and started laughing. It was something so fucking small, so irrelevant, but for some reason, saying the same thing at the same time made both of them ridiculously happy and they couldn’t explain why.

“Damn, the two of you really _have_ been hanging out a lot, huh?” Sam said, looking between them.

“What does that mean?” Bucky asked, glaring at him.

Sam chuckled, pulling his arm off Dove’s shoulder and raising his hands in defense. “Not _my_ words. Steve’s,” he explained, pointing over at him.

Dove and Bucky looked over at Steve, who was just laughing, walking alongside them. He didn’t seem to think too much of the fact or maybe he was just drunk, neither of them were sure. Either way, they brushed it off and continued on like nothing was said.

“Well how about this,” Sam continued, mind still on the game, “if you win, Dove, I’ll buy you another cotton candy.”

She scoffed at his offer. “Dude, that’s like _half_ the price of one of those giant turkey legs. Not a fair bet.”

“Then what do you want, you little duchess?”

Dove thought to herself for a moment, biting her lip as they walked, stopping just beside the water guns booth. Bucky leaned down to whisper in her ear, “ask him to buy you a cotton candy and then me a turkey leg.”

She laughed at his idea, unsure if he was serious or not, but she found it entertaining enough. Although it wasn’t much of a benefit to her, the thought of seeing Sam shell out more money sounded hilarious. “Okay, I’ll take the cotton candy offer, but you also have to buy Bucky a turkey leg,” she said, repeating Bucky’s idea.

Sam crossed his arms over his chest, staring down at her. “Now _that’s_ not fair.”

“What, you scared you’ll lose?” Dove snapped back.

His eyes widened, looking over at Steve for support, but being met with a grin and a shrug from him. “You’re on your own here, Sam. There’s no fighting Dove on this kind of thing.”

“Goddamn you, Rogers.” Sam shook his head, looking back down to her. “Alright, you got yourself a deal.”

She squealed in excitement, clapping to herself and skipping over to find an open spot on the line up of water guns. Sam sat down beside her, with Steve and Bucky standing behind them. The rules were shouted out to everyone lined up on the stools and then the bell was rung, cueing everyone to start blasting water at those creepy little clown statue’s mouths until the balloons beside them were filled with enough gas to pop.

Dove and Sam were both talking trash to each other the entire time their focus stayed locked on their targets, filing their balloons up more and more.

Sure enough, Dove’s popped first. She shot up from her seat, high-fiving Steve and Bucky. Sticking her tongue out at Sam as he pulled out his wallet, telling everyone to follow him over to the food carts.

Once Sam spent way too much cash on Dove’s cotton candy and Bucky’s turkey leg, they all made their way back over to the games and played a few rounds of ring toss and skeeball, sans gambling, after how bad Sam got it.

The whole time, Bucky snuck touches to Dove. He just couldn’t keep his hands off of her. He found any excuse he could to politely guide her or throw his arm over her in a ‘friendly’ manner, yet always letting the contact sit for a bit too long. Not that either Steve or Sam noticed, they were much too preoccupied with their competitive endeavors to think twice about anything else around them.

Typical of the three men— they ended up at the high striker, with Bucky joining in on the competition then. Each of them took turns slamming the hammer down on the lever to launch the puck high enough to hit the bell. Dove stood back, watching and laughing since they were all equally matched, but still continued to argue back and forth that one hit the bell a bit harder than the time before.

“There you are, Dove!” Peter’s voice came from behind her, catching her attention, before jogging over to the group with Mj.

“Hey,” Dove said, smiling to them, “how was riding the ferris wheel? And I’m assuming every other ride in this place, since you left me alone for so long,” she smarted.

“You weren’t alone,” Mj argued, gesturing over to the group of men fighting over who was the strongest, “ _clearly_.”

Dove followed Mj’s guidance and looked over at them, rolling her eyes when she saw Bucky rip the hammer from Sam’s hands, obviously triggering an argument between the two of them as Steve stood back laughing. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Wait, is that _blood_ on your shirt?” Peter asked, pointing at the neckline of her tank top.

She laughed, nodding. “It’s uh, it’s been interesting to say the least.”

“Why don’t you fill us in on the way over to the Loop-O-Plane?” Mj suggested, nodding down towards the opposite end of the carnival.

“Oh, um… yeah, yeah okay,” Dove said, looking back to the guys. She caught Bucky’s eye and silently pointed over her shoulder, smiling sadly as if to say she had to go and she was sorry.

He understood, giving her a wink and a salute while Steve and Sam were focused in on the game. Bucky stayed watching her as she was yanked away by her friends, until she disappeared into the thick crowds.


End file.
